Jessie's parrot

THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA

LOS ANGELES

—

LITTLE SUNBEAMS.

IV.
JESSIE'S PARROT.

% S'tilljor cf iljb Eolunw,

i.

LITTLE SUNBEAMS.

By JOANNA H. MATHEWS, Author of the " Bessie Books."

I. BELLE POWBKS' LOCKKT. 16mo $100

II. DORA'S MOTTO. 16mo 1.00

III. LILY NORRIS' ENEMY 1.00

IV. JESSIE'S PARROT 1.00

V. MAMIK'S WATCHWORD 1.00

II.

THE FLOWERETS.

A series of Stories on the Commandments. 6 vols. In a

box $3.60

" It is not easy to say too good a word for this admirable series.
Interesting, graphic, impressive, they teach with great distinctness th»
cardinal lessons which they would have the youthful reader learn." —
& S. Times.

HI.

THE BESSIE BOOKS.
6 vols. In a box $7.50

" Bessie is a very charming specimen of little girlhood. It is a lovely
story of home and nursery life among a family of bright, merry littla
children." — Presbyterian.

ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS,

New York.

Jessie's Parrot.

FRONTISPIECE.

JESSIE'S PAREOT.

" A HAUQHTT SPIRIT GOBTH BEFORE A FALL."

" He that is down need fear no fall,

He that is low no pride,
He that is humble ever shall
Have God to be his guide."

BY

JOANNA H. MAT HEWS,

AUTHOR OF THE " BESSIE BOOKS " AND THB " FLOWERETS."

NEW YORK:

ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS,
530 BROADWAY.

1876.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871. by

ROBKKT CAIO^ .ND BROTHERS,

!-ji the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.

CAMBRIDGE:
PRKBS OF JOHN WILSON AND SON.

TZ7

CONTENTS.

I. THE NEW SCHOLAR 9

II. AN EXCURSION 31

III. JESSIE AND HER GRANDFATHER 62

IV. THE PARROT 69

V. GRANDMAMMA HOWARD 90

VI. JEALOUSY 110

VII. A MISFORTUNE 129

VIII. "THE SPIDER AND THE FLY" 148

IX. A GUILTY CONSCIENCE 168

X. A GAME OF CHARACTERS . . * . . . . 189

XI. CONFESSION 205

XII. THE FAIR . . 223

622652

JESSIE'S PARROT.

I.

THE NEW SCHOLAR.

ANNY LEROY is going away from
our school," said Carrie Ransom
one morning to Belle Powers and
two or three more of her young schoomlates.
" Oh, dear ! I'm sorry," said Belle.
" So am I," said Dora Johnson. " Why is
she going?"

" Has she finished her education, and is she
never going to school any more?" asked
Mabel Walton.

"Why, no," said Belle; "she's nothing

IO Jessie's Parrot.

but a little girl ; and you don't finish your
education till you're quite grown up and have
long dresses."

" Why is she going away ? " asked Lily.
" I don't want her to go. I like Fanny."

" So do I. She's real nice," said Carrie ;
*'but she is going, for all, 'cause her father
and mother and all her family are going to
Europe and she is going with them."

" I wish she wouldn't," said Belle ; and
one and another echoed their sorrow at the
loss of their schoolmate.

Fanny had always been well liked in the
school ; but now that they were about to lose
her the little girls found that they were even
more fond of her than they had supposed, and
many regrets were expressed when, a moment
later, she came in accompanied by Grade
Howard.

Fanny herself was very melancholy and
low, for this was to be the last day at school,
as she informed the other children ; the jour-
ney to Europe having been decided upon rather

The New Scholar. n

suddenly, and the departure was to take place
within a few days. Nevertheless, although
she was sorry to part with her teacher and
classmates, and in mortal dread of the voyage,
she felt herself rather of a heroine, and entitled
to be made much of.

" We'll have an empty place in our school
then," said Belle.

" No," said Fanny, " for my cousin Hattie
is coming to take my place ; it is all ar-
ranged, and Miss Ashton says she can come."

" Is she nice ?" asked Lily.

" Well — yes," answered Fanny, half doubt-
fully.

" You don't seem to think she's so very"
said Belle.

No, Fanny evidently had her own opinion
on this subject; but as she was not a child
who was ready to speak ill of the absent, she
would not say more than she could help. But
the interest and curiosity of her schoolmates
were aroused, and they could not be satisfied
without hearing more.

12 Jessie's Parrot.

"I know Hattie," said Grade Howard, who
was more intimate with Fanny and her family
than any of the other children, — "I know
Hattie, and I like her. She thinks I am very
nice. She told me so."

This was plainly the highest of recommenda-
tions in Oracle's eyes. Any one who admired
her was sure of her favor ; but this fact did
not have quite as much weight with her com-
panions as it did with herself, and they turned
once more to Fanny.

" But tell us, Fanny," said Lily Norris,
" why don't you like her so very much ? "

Fanny looked, as she felt, uncomfortable
at this close question.

" Why," she answered reluctantly, " I do
like her ; she's my cousin, you know, so I have
to ; but then — but then — I think I'll let you
wait till she comes to find out the kind of girl
she is. Maybe you'll like her very much. Gra-
cie does."

Fanny had her own doubts whether Gracie
or any of the others would always continue to

The New Scholar. 13

like Hattie as well as they might do upon a
first acquaintance ; but she very properly and
generously resolved not to tell tales and preju-
dice the minds of the other children against
the new comer. Better to give Hattie all the
chance she could and let it be her own fault
if she were not popular with her classmates.

I cannot say that Fanny reasoned this out
in just such words ; but the kind thought was
in her mind, and she resolved to hold her
peace and say nothing unkind about her
cousin. Would Hattie have done as much for
her or for any one else ? You shall judge for
yourself by and by.

The parting with Fanny was rather a sad
one, for the children were all fond of her, and
she took it so very hardly herself, declaring
that she never expected to see any one of them
again. For Fanny, though a very good and
amiable little girl, was one who was apt to
"borrow trouble," as the saying is; that is,
she was always worrying herself about misfor-
tunes which would, could, or might happen to
herself or her friends.

14 Jessie's Parrot.

Therefore she now expressed her expectation
of never seeing any of her young friends
again, and when Lily very naturally inquired
if the family meant to stay " for ever an' ever
an' ever," said, " No, but people were very
often drowned when they went to Europe in a
steamer, and very likely she would be."

Nor was she to be persuaded to take a more
cheerful view of the future, even when Dora
Johnson suggested that many more people
crossed the ocean and returned in safety than
were lost upon it. She was determined to
dwell upon the possibilities, and even proba
bilities of her being shipwrecked, and took
leave of her schoolmates with a view to such
a fate.

" Fanny did not act as if she thought we'd
like her cousin Hattie very much, did she ? "
questioned Nellie Ransom as she walked
homeward with Gracie Howard, Dora Johnson,
and Laura Middleton.

" No, she did not," said Laura. " Fanny
don't tell tales or say ,unkind things about

The New Scholar. 15

people, but it was quite plain she does
not think so very much of Hattie Leroy."

" I know the reason why," said Oracle.

" What is it ? " asked Laura.

" Fanny said something very hateful about
me," answered Gracie, " and Hattie told me
of it ; and just for that Fanny was mad at
Hattie."

" Well, I should think Fanny might be
mad," said Laura. " Hattie had no right to
tell you if Fanny didn't mean her to, and
I don't believe she did."

" No," said Gracie, " I don't suppose Fanny
did want me to know it ; but then she had no
business to say it."

" Hattie had no business to repeat it," said
Dora indignantly ; " if she is that kind of a
girl I don't wonder Fanny don't like her,
and I wish she was not coming to our
school."

" What did Fanny say ? " asked Laura, who
had her full share of curiosity.

" She said — she-er — she-er — I'm not going

1 6 Jessie's Parrot.

to tell you what she said," answered Grade,
who was really ashamed to confess what slight
cause for offence Fanny had given, and that it
was her own wounded self-love which made it
appear so " hateful."

But although Gracie would not tell her
schoolmates, I shall tell you, for I know all
about it.

The mighty trouble was just this.

Hattie Leroy had but lately come to live in
the city, and just when her parents were look-
ing around for a good school to send her to,
Fanny's papa and mamma made up their
minds to take her abroad. This left her place
vacant in Miss Ashton's class, and, as you
have heard, it was at once secured for her
little cousin.

Meanwhile Gracie and Hattie, who had met
at Fanny's house, had struck up a violent
intimate friendship and were now much
together.

As may be supposed, Hattie was very curi-
ous respecting her future teacher and class-

The Neiv Scholar. 17

mates, and asked both Fanny and Gracie many
questions about them.

But, although the accounts given by the
two children agreed in most points, yet, in
some way, the story told by Gracie left a very
different impression from that of Fanny. The
latter thought her teacher and classmates very
nearly, if not quite, perfect, and bestowed her
praise freely and without stint. Well, and if you
had heard Gracie's report you might have said
that she did the same ; but whenever Gracie
said one good word for another she said a
dozen for herself. One girl was a very bright
scholar, but she stood second to Gracie ;
another was always punctual and steady, but
Gracie had still a higher number of marks for
these two virtues — or at least if she did not
have them, she deserved them, and it was the
fault of some one else that they had not fallen
to her share. Nellie Ransom wrote such fine
compositions ; but then, they were by no means
to be compared to Gracie's own, — oh, dear, no !
So it was with each and every one ; whatever
2

1 8 Jessie's Parrot.

merit any child in the class possessed, Grade's
went beyond it.

So at last Hattie quite naturally asked
Fanny if Gracie were really the best child, the
finest scholar, and the most admired and praised
of all her classmates.

" Why, no," answered Fanny ; " Gracie is a
very good scholar, and 'most always knows her
lessons perfectly ; but Nellie is even better than
she is, and has kept the head of the spelling
and history classes ever so long. And she
generally writes the best compositions ; but
Gracie don't think so, and always says Miss
Ashton is unjust if she gives Nellie the highest
marks. But Gracie is very smart, and can
learn quicker than any of the rest of us ; and
she 'most always behaves well in school too."

" Better than any one else? " asked Hattie.

" No, " said Fanny, rather indignantly ;
" there's lots of the children that are just as
good as she is. She's not the best one in the
school at all. She's good enough, but not so
wonderful."

The New Scholar. 19

" She thinks she is," said Hattie.

" That's nothing," answered Fanny ; " peo-
ple's thinking they are a thing don't make them
that thing, you know."

" Then you think Gracie is conceited and
thinks a great deal of herself, do you ? " asked
Hattie.

" Why, yes," answered Fanny, though half
reluctantly ; " no one could help thinking that,
you know."

Fanny expressed herself in this manner
more as a way of excusing her own opinion of
Gracie than as accusing her little playmate.

" Who do you think is the best child in all
the school ? " asked Hattie.

" Well," answered Fanny, after a moment's
reflection, " I b'lieve Belle Powers is. At
least I think it is the best in her to be as good
as she is, for she has to try pretty hard some-
times."

" Why ? " asked inquisitive Hattie again.

" Because she has no mother, and she has
always been a good deal spoiled by her papa

2O Jessie's Parrot.

and her old nurse. But I never saw any child
who wanted to be good more than Belle, and
she tries very much ; and we are all very fond
of her, and Miss Ashton excuses her things
sometimes because she is sorry for her."

" Don't that make you mad ? " said Hattie.

" No," answered Fanny with much energy ;
" we'd be real mean if we were mad when
Belle has no mother. No, indeed ; no one
could bear to have Belle scolded ; we all love
her too much."

Now this was seemingly a most innocent con-
versation ; was it not ? and one could hardly
have supposed that it would have made trouble
for poor Fanny as it did.

Gracie and Fanny lived within a few doors
of one another, the latter a little nearer to
Miss Ashton's house than the former; and
Gracie was in the habit of stopping for Fanny
on her way to school that they might walk
there together.

But one morning a day or two after this,
Fanny, standing by the window and watching

The New Scholar. 21

for her young friend as usual, saw her go by
with her maid without so much as turning
her head or casting her eye up at the win-
dow where she must know Fanny awaited her.

" It is the queerest thing I ever knew," said
Fanny to her father as she walked along by his
side a few moments later ; " it 'most seems as
if Grade was offended with me to do so ; but
then she can't be, for I have not done a thing
to her. I shall ask her right away, as soon as
I am at school."

But Fanny was only just in time to take off
her hat and cloak and go to her seat before the
bell rang, and so had no opportunity before
school to inquire into the cause of Gracie's
strange behavior.

There was no need of words, however, to
show that Grade was indeed offended with her,
for averted looks and scornful tossings of the
head showed that plainly enough. Poor Fanny
was hurt and uncomfortable, and vainly tried to
imagine what she could have done that offended
Gracie so much.

22 Jessies Parrot.

She ran to her as soon as recess gave her
liberty to speak.

" Why, Grade! what is the matter?" she
asked. " Why did you not stop for me this
morning ? " •

"'Cause I did not choose to," answered
Grade shortly.

"Are you mad with me?" asked Fanny,
putting a very unnecessary question, for it was
quite plain to all beholders that this was
Grade's state of mind.

"Yes, I am; and I have a good right to be
too," answered Grade, her eyes flashing at
Fanny.

"What have I done?" asked the innocent
Fanny.

"You need not pretend you don't know,
Miss Hateful," replied Grade, "nor pretend
you haven't a guilty conscience. I've found
you out! 1*11 never be friends with you
again."

" You ought to tell Fanny what it is, and
let her make it up," said Belle.

The New Scholar. 23

" She can't make it up. I've found her out
before it was too late. She is a false, treacher-
ous friend," said Gracie, waxing magnificent
and severe in her reproaches, as she imagined.

Poor Fanny, a tender-hearted, sensitive
little thing, was overwhelmed by these upbraid-
ings, which she was not conscious of deserving ;
but neither her entreaties nor those of the
other children could draw more than this from
Gracie, who turned away from them with an
air of great offence, and holding her head
very high with insulted dignity.

" Augh ! " said Lily Norris, who generally
took up the cudgels in defence of any one
whom she considered oppressed or injured, and
who generally contrived to be quite as cutting
and severe in her remarks as the offender had
been ; " you had better take care, Gracie ;
some day that nose of yours won't come down
again, it is growing so used to sticking itself
up at people. If when you're grown up
people call you ' stuck-up-nose Miss Howard,'
you won't feel very complimented; but you

24 Jessie's Parrot.

can just remember it is the consequence of
your being such a proudy when you was
young."

Gracie made no reply, except by raising
both nose and head higher still, which
expressive motion Lily answered by saying, —

" Oh, don't I feel like giving you a good
slap ! " with which she walked away, fearing
perhaps that she might be too strongly
tempted to put her desire into execution.

Fanny was a good deal distressed, and the
other children all felt much sympathy for her,
for, as you will doubtless do, they thought
Grade's behavior not only unkind but also
unjust.

For, although such scenes as this were
becoming quite too frequent in consequence
of Grade's ever increasing vanity and conceit,
she generally was ready enough to proclaim
the cause of offence ; but now she was not
only " hateful," as Lily called it, but " mysteri-
ous" also, and would give Fanny no opportu-
nity of explaining the supposed grievance.

The New Scholar. 25

Fanny went home both unhappy and vexed,
— Gracie still carrying matters with a high
hand and refusing even to walk on the same
side of the street with her — and finding her
cousin there, as was quite natural, she told her
of the trouble with Gracie.

Had Fanny not been too much disturbed to
pay much attention to Hattie's manner, she
might have seen that she looked uncomfortable
when she told her story, fidgeting and color-
ing and having so little to say that Fanny
thought her wanting in sympathy. But it was
not until the next day that she discovered that
Hattie was really the cause of the difficulty
with Gracie. By that time she had heard
that she was to sail for Europe in a few days,
and this made her more unwilling than ever to
be on bad terms with her young friend.

Meeting Gracie in the street, the poor little
grieved heart overflowed, and rushing up to
her, Fanny exclaimed, " Oh, Gracie ! don't
be cross with me any more, for I'm going to
Europe, and I expect I'll be drowned in the

26 Jessie's Parrot.

steamer, and then you'll be sorry you did not
make up with me."

This affecting prospect somewhat mollified
Grade's vexation ; but still she answered in a
tone of strong resentment, —

" "Well, then ; and why did you say hateful
things about me to Hattie ? "

" I didn't," said Fanny, who had so little in-
tention of making unkind remarks about
Gracie that she had really forgotten her con-
versation with Hattie. " I didn't. I never
said a thing about you."

" Hattie said you did," answered Gracie ;
" she says you told her I thought myself very
wonderful, but I was not ; and that 'most all
the girls were better scholars than me."

" I didn't," said Fanny indignantly.

" And she says," continued Gracie, " that
you said 'cause I thought myself good did not
make me good, and that Nellie wrote better
compositions than I did. And she says " —
this was plainly the first and worst count in
Grade's eyes — " she says you said no one

The NCTV Scholar. 27

could help knowing I was conceited and stuck
up."

This last speech suddenly recalled to Fanny's
mind what she had said, and she was dismayed ;
nor could she see how she was to explain it to
Gracie.

She was fond of Gracie, who, when her self-
conceit did not come in her way, was really a
pleasant and lovable child ; and, oh ! how she
did wish she had never allowed Hattie to lead
her into that conversation about her school-
mates.

She colored violently and exclaimed, —

" Well, I did say that, but I did not say it
in that way, Gracie. I don't quite know how
it was, but it did not seem so bad as that when
I said it. And Hattie asked me, so I couldn't
help saying what I thought ; but it wasn't of
my own accord and — and — well, you know,
Gracie, most all of us do think you think
a good deal of yourself — but — oh, dear! it
was too mean for Hattie to go and tell you ;
and somehow I suppose she's made you tliink

28 Jessie's Parrot.

it was worse than it was. 'Cause I didn't
mean to say any thing hateful about you ; but
Hattie asked such a lot of questions, and I
never thought she'd go and tell ; and I'm
going away, and I expect I'll never come back,
and, oh, dear, it's too mean ! "

All this Fanny poured forth in a very dis-
tressed and excited manner, finishing by a
burst of tears.

Yes, it was indeed " too mean," and Gracie
felt that Fanny had been shabbily treated.
She had listened to Hattie's tell-tale report
with a half-ashamed feeling, knowing that
Fanny could never have thought that her
words would be repeated ; and, although anger
and mortification had taken a strong hold
upon her heart, she could not help seeing that
Fanny had more cause of complaint than
she had.

So she put her arm about Fanny's neck, and,
with what she considered magnanimous for-
giveness, told her not to cry any more and she
would " stop being mad."

The New Scholar. 29

And when they talked the matter over and
Fanny recalled what she had said, both of
Gracie and of the other children in the class,
it could not but be seen that Hattie had ex-
aggerated as well as " told tales," so making
mischief and bringing discord between the two
little friends. And had Fanny been revengeful,
or too proud to overlook Oracle's unkindness
and beg her to tell her what had come between
them the trouble might have been lasting, and
they have parted for a long time with bitter-
ness and resentment rankling in their breasts.

But now there was peace between them once
more, though Gracie did still secretly feel
some vexation at Fanny for even allowing that
she could be wrong, and took great credit to
herself for being so forgiving and generous.

And now you will not wonder that Fanny
did not feel disposed to think Hattie " so very
nice," although she, far more generous and
charitable than her cousin, would not tell tales
and prejudice the minds of her future school-
mates against her.

30 Jessie's Parrot.

But Oracle hardly thought the less of
Ilattic for what she had learned of her ; for
she always liked any one who admired her,
and this Hattie professed to do ; perhaps she
really did so, for, as I have said, Gracie was
a pleasant child, and very clever in many
things.

n.

AN EXCURSION.

LARGE omnibus stood before the door
of Miss Ashton's house, and had been
waiting there some minutes. This
was on a street where a line of omnibuses ran,
and every now and then some would-be passen-
ger made for the door of this one, when the
driver would turn and say something which
plainly disappointed him of his ride, at least
in this particular stage.

If such an individual chanced to glance up
at the windows of Miss Ashton's house, lie
saw there a row of little faces in each of the
parlor windows ; and these same faces brim
ming over with smiles and dimples at the sight

32 Jessies Parrot.

of his discomfiture, and the consciousness that
this omnibus had been chartered for their
especial pleasure and convenience, and that no
mere passer-by had any right or title therein.

Some people smiled in return to the happy
little group, and nodded good-naturedly, as if
to say, —

" Oh, yes! it is all right, and we are glad
you are going to enjoy yourselves, and hope
you will have a very pleasant time ; " but one
or two looked cross, frowning and shaking their
heads or shoulders in a displeased manner,
and as if they had no sympathy with any sim-
ple pleasure or frolic.

Upon each and all of these did the little
observers pass remarks, according to what they
believed to be their deserts.

" Look at that man," said Belle Powers,
" how very displeased he looks. Just as cross
as any thing, because the driver wouldn't let
him go in our stage."

" I don't believe he likes children," said
Bessie Bradford.

An Excursion. 33

" No," said her sister Maggie, " I think he
cannot be one of the happy kind the Bible
speaks about, that have their ' quivers full of
them,' for which he is to be pitied, and we
need not be very severe with him."

u But can't people like children and be glad
they are going to have a nice time, even if they
don't have any in their own homes?" asked
Carrie Ransom.

" Yes, of course," said Maggie, always ready
to find excuses for others ; " but then probably
that gentleman never had nice times himself
when he was a child, and so he does not
know how to appreciate them."

Maggie's long words and elegant sentences
always settled any doubtful point, and the
" cross gentleman," who still stood upon the
sidewalk waiting for the next passing omnibus,
was now regarded with eyes of sympathy and
pity, which were quite lost upon him as he
scolded and grumbled at the " fuss that was
made nowadays about children's pleasures."

" Chartered for a troop of youngsters," he

3

34 Jessie's Parrot.

growled forth to another gentleman, who com-
ing up also opened the door of the omnibus,
and would have jumped in.

Upon which the new-comer drew back,
looked up smilingly at the windows of the
house, nodded and waved his hand, receiving
in return blushes and smiles for himself, with
an answering nod or two from some of the
least shy of the group.

" He's glad," said Lily ; " he is a nice gentle-
man, and I expect he has lots of little children
who love him dearly, and that he tries to give
them a good time."

" And so is made happy himself," said
Maggie. " There comes Patrick with the
shawls and wraps."

And now came Miss Ashton and a couple of
lady friends, who had volunteered to go with
her and help take care of the little party,
bound for an excursion and ramble in the
Central Park ; and the signal being given for
the merry group to take their places in the
stage, forth they all fluttered, like so many

An Excursion. 35

birds ; and amid much laughing and chatter-
ing stowed themselves away in the roomy con-
veyance.

They were all seated, and Patrick, Mrs.
Bradford's man, who had been lent for the
occasion, was mounting to his seat beside the
driver, when another gentleman, coming up
with a quick step, pulled open the door of the
omnibus, and popped in. He was plainly short-
sighted, and did not see how matters stood
until he was fairly inside and looking about
for a seat.

Perhaps, indeed, his hearing taught him
first, for he might almost have thought himself
in a nest of sparrows with all that chirping
and fluttering. A smothered laugh or two
also broke forth as he entered, and he speedily
saw that he had no right to a place there.

" Ah ! private, I see. Beg your pardon,
ladies," he said good-naturedly, and jumped
out again, turning with a bow, and " I wish
you a pleasant time." Then, as he caught
sight of a roguish face and a pair of dancing

36 Jessie's Parrot.

eyes watching him with a look of recognition,
he said, —

"Why, Lily, my dear! Glad to see you.
Bound for a frolic ? I hope you may enjoy
yourself; and your schoolmates as well. A
merry day to you, birdies." With which he
banged the door and watched them off.

" Who's that gentleman, Lily ? " asked more
than one voice.

" He is Kitty Raymond's father. His name
is Mr. Raymond," answered Lily.

" He is a nice, pleasant gentleman, is he
not ? " asked Bessie.

" Well, yes, he is very pleasant," said Lily,
" but then he is an awful liar."

" Oh - h - h ! ah ! ah ! " broke from one and an-
other of the children at Lily's very plain speak-
ing ; and Miss Ashton said reprovingly, —

" Lily, my child ! what a very improper ex
pression for you to use, and of one so much
older than yourself, too."

" I don't care," said Inly, " it is true, Miss
Ashton. I know he tells the most dreadful

An Excursion. 37

untrue stories, and that does make him a liar,
I know. If children say what is very untrue,
people say it is a lie ; and when grown-ups
say what is not true to children I don't see
why they are not liars all the same. And Mr.
Raymond don't tell little stories what you
would call fibs, either, but real big, true lies,
what Tom calls whoppers. So, though he is
pleasant and good-natured, I don't think he is
so very nice ; and I'm glad he is not my papa."

Miss Ashton hardly knew what to say, for if
Lily's accusations were true, — and the child
was not apt to accuse any one wrongfully, —
her reasoning was quite just, and it was plainly
to be seen that in some way her sense of right
and truth had been grievously offended. But
still she did not wish to have her speak in such
an improper way, and she was about to say
so again, when Lily broke forth once more
with, —

" Miss Ashton, I'll tell you, and you can
just judge for yourself. The other day I was
spending the afternoon with Kitty, and her

38 Jessie's Parrot.

little brother wanted to go down stairs with
us, and his papa did not want him to go ; so he
told him that the big black man in the closet
in the hall would catch him and put him up the
chimney. And it was a lie! I say it was a
real, true lie," persisted Lily, who was apt to
be emphatic in her choice of words, " for Mr.
Raymond knew there was no black man there,
and he just made it up."

" Was the little boy frightened ? " asked
Belle.

" Yes, as frightened as any thing, and he
really believes there is a black man in that
closet ; and Willie Raymond, who is six years
old, will not go past that closet without some
big person. And I did feel not very brave
myself when I went past it," confessed Lily,
" for all I knew there was no black man there
— and if there was, he wouldn't hurt me, the
poor, old fellow — and knew it was just a —
well, if Miss Ashton says so, I'll call it a fib,
but I shall think it was a lie."

Miss Ashton and the other ladies could

An Excursion. 39

hardly help smiling at Lily's tone ; and the
former felt that the child was so far right that
she could scarcely reprove her again for her
indignant attack upon this too common form
of deceit.

" And Mr. Raymond went and winked at me,
just as if he thought / thought it was funny,"
pursued Lily ; " but I thought it was only horrid,
and I didn't smile a bit, but looked back at him
very solemn. No, I don't like him, and I'm
not going to."

" You don't like him because you can't re-
spect him," said Bessie with solemn gravity.

" No, I just don't," answered Lily ; " and
I'm not going to go and have a respect for a
person who tells — who says what is riot
true, not if they are as big and as old as a
mountain."

Lily's resolution was received with general
approval ; but now, at her suggestion, the sub-
ject was changed. There was enough to talk
about without taking any unpleasant thing;
and how those little tongues did go !

40 Jessie's Parrot.

It was a mild, lovely day in the early spring,
uncommonly warm for the season, — just the
day for an excursion. Modest crocuses, lovely
hyacinths and gay tulips were in bloom ; the
willows were just clothing themselves in their
first tender green, and every stream and spring
rippled and sparkled and sang as if it were
rejoicing in its new life and liberty.

The park was fairly alive with children, who,
like our little party, seemed determined to enjoy
this bright, spring day to the utmost ; but per-
haps none were so gleeful and merry as our
young friends.

The windows of the omnibus were open, and
the little girls had all scrambled upon their
knees that they might the better see what was
without ; and many a grave countenance was
won to smiles by the sight of the bright, joyous
faces as they rolled past, and the merry peals
of laughter which every now and then broke
forth from the cumbrous vehicle. And they
scattered not only smiles and bright looks
wherever they went, but other good things also.

An Excursion. 41

Mabel Walton, who considered it almost im-
possible to enjoy oneself without a quantity of
candies and sugar-plums on hand, had been
furnished by her over-indulgent mother with a
large supply of these delicacies ; nor were most
of the others without their share ; so that Miss
Ashton looked with some dismay upon the
treasures which were displayed by one and
another, fearing that her little flock might sur-
feit themselves with too many sweets before
the day was over.

However, her mind was soon relieved, at
least in a measure. For Mabel having doled
out a handful of sugar-plums to each of her
companions, Bessie Bradford called out as the
carriage rolled slowly up a hilly part of the

road, —
•»
" Oh ! see that little girl ; what a nice face

she has. But she looks so pale and sorry. I
wish I had some pennies for her; but I will
give her some of my sugar-plums. Perhaps
she don't have many."

Poor child ! she looked as if she had not

42 Jessie's Parrot.

many loaves of bread, as she ran by the side
of the omnibus, holding up her thin hand. A
pale, sorrowful little face it was that looked up
into those, so rosy and happy, above it ; pinched,
careworn, and old above its years, with that
look so often seen in the faces of the children
of the poor. Yet, iii spite of her extreme
poverty, she was* not very ragged or very
dirty; and as little Bessie had said, she
had "a nice face," an open, straightforward
look, a gentle expression, and a clear, honest
eye.

As she saw Bessie's hand outstretched, her
face brightened, and as the little girl dropped
two or three sugar-plums, she stooped hastily to
pick them up ; but when she raised her head
again, the old weary look had come back, deep-
ened now by disappointment.

Just then the driver whipped up his horses
and the omnibus rolled on faster, leaving the
child looking sadly after it, and making no
attempt to pick up the sugar-plums now thrown
out freely by all the little girls.

An Excursion. 43

" Why ! she looks as if she didn't like
sugar-plums," said Belle.

" Impossible ! " said Maggie. " There never
could be a person so wanting in sense as not
to like sugar-plums."

" Maybe that man who lived in a tub did
not," said Lily. " Maggie, I was very much
interested in that man when you wrote to me
about hina, and I meant to ask you a little
more about him, but I did not think he could
be a wise man. What was his name ? "

" Mr. Diogenes," said Maggie ; " and the
reason they called the old cross-patch a wise
man was because wise men were very scarce
in those days. They only had seven in all
that country ; but when you are as far as I am
in Parley's History you will learn all about
them."

" I wonder what did make that little girl
look so sorry," said Bessie, unable to forget
the look of disappointment so plainly visible
on the child's face.

" I think, darling," said Miss Ashton, " that

44 Jessie's Parrot.

she expected pennies when she saw you were
about to throw something out, and so was not
satisfied with the candies. There was some-
thing interesting and sweet in her face."

" Here are some more poor children," said
Bessie ; " let's drop some sugar-plums to them
and see if they care about them."

There could be no doubt as to the approba-
tion of these new recipients of the bounty of
our little friends. At first it was difficult to
tell whether the pleasure was most enjoyed by
those within the omnibus who scattered with
liberal hand, or by the outsiders who gathered
the harvest ; but as the enthusiasm of these
last drew new claimants, and all waxed more
and more clamorous, it soon became an annoy-
ance, and Miss Ashton was obliged to put a
stop to the shower, which had already received
a check, as some of the younger children were
becoming frightened.

But Patrick and the driver were forced to
threaten the obstreperous crowd, and even to
call for the aid of a policeman before they

An Excursion. 45

could be scattered, so that this diversion did
not end so agreeably.

There was one thing gained, however, in
Miss Ashton's opinion ; and this was that the
greater part of the sugar-plums had been dis-
posed of, without hurt to her young charge.

Not that she objected to sugar-plums alto-
gether. Do not think, my little readers, that
she was, as Maggie would have said, so " want-
ing in sense," as that ; but she had been rather
appalled by the sight of the numerous tempt-
ing looking parcels that were produced, to say
nothing of Mabel's over-abundant supply.

Our gay party made the round of the park,
stopping for a while at any place of interest,
and now and then alighting if they were
so inclined. They hung for some time
about the paddock where the deer are kept,
putting their little hands through the palings
and trying to tempt the pretty, gentle creatures
to come nearer. But the deer were not to be
persuaded^ and although they watched the
children with their mild, soft eyes in a very

46 Jessie s Parrot.

amiable manner, they held aloof and would
not condescend to a closer acquaintance.

The swans were less timid, and, as the chil-
dren flocked down to the border of the lake
with their hands full of crackers and bread,
came swimming up, arching their graceful
necks, and looking eagerly for the bits with
which they were speedily treated. It was
enchanting to see them so friendly, and to
have them feed from one's very hand.

The old gray arsenal, with its collection of
wild animals, was not to be visited until after
they had taken their lunch. As they passed
the Casino on their way up through the park,
Patrick had been left there to make all ready
for them ; and now they drove back and
alighted. Pleasant and mild though the day
was, the ground was still too cold and the air
too fresh to permit of lunching out of doors ;
and, although the children entreated that they
might be permitted to do so, Miss Ashton was
.too wise to yield.

The lunch was not quite ready when they

An Excursion. 47

reached the Casino, and the children were
permitted to wander around and amuse them-
selves as they pleased for a few moments, pro-
vided they did not lose sight of the house, or
go beyond call.

Bessie, Lily, and Belle had strolled a short
distance away together, and had disappeared
from the view of Maggie, Nellie, and Dora, who
stood at the head of a short flight of stone
steps leading up to the Casino. They had but
gone around the other side of the hedge, how-
ever, and could not be far off.

Suddenly Lily and Belle came flying back
with frightened faces, and rushed breathless
and panting to where the other children stood.
Then BeHe turned, and exclaimed, —
"Where's Bessie? Didn't Bessie come?"
No Bessie was to be seen, certainly; and
Maggie, noticing the startled faces of the other
children, took alarm at once for her little sis-
ter, and started forward, crying, —

" Where is she ? What has happened ?
Where's my ^Bessie ? "

48 Jessie's Parrot.

Before Belle or Lily could speak, Hattie
darted from behind the hedge, laughing and
mischievous ; and, pointing her finger at the
crimson faces of the two little ones, cried
triumphantly, —

<: Oh ! didn't I take you in ? Didn't I give
you a fright, though ? "

" What is it ? Where's Bessie ? " said Mag-
gie again.

Hattie sat down upon the lower step, and
doubling herself over and rocking back and
forth, said between paroxysms of laughter, —

" Oh, dear ! Bessie is round there talking to
the old fellow. She's all right. Didn't I play
you two geese a nice trick, though ? How you
did run ! I didn't think you could be so taken
in. Oh, what fun!"

" What ! " exclaimed Lily, indignation taking
the place of her alarm, " were you tricking
us ? Didn't he try to take your hair ? Hattie,
Hattie ! you mean, mean girl ! And you told
us a real wicked story, too. How dare you do
it ? " And Lily stamped her foot at Hattie, in

An Excursion. 49

a real passion at the trick which had been
played upon her.

The effect was different upon Belle. She
was a sensitive little thing, easily overcome
by any undue excitement ; and, throwing her-
self upon Maggie, she burst into a violent fit
of sobbing and crying.

Miss Ashton and her friends heard and came
to inquire into the trouble ; and Hattie was
now rather frightened herself as she saw the
effect of her foolish deceit.

Lily indignantly told the story, which
amounted to this. It was a well-known fact,
and had unfortunately come to the ears of our
little girls, that some man had lately attacked
several children, and suddenly severed the hair
from their heads, making off as fast as possi-
ble after he had done so. He did this for the
sake of the hair, which he probably sold ; but
he was, of course, a bad man and a thief, and
the children all felt much dread of him.

So when Hattie had come flying up to Bessie,
Belle, and Lily, without any hat, and seern-
4

50 Jessie's Parrot.

ingly in a state of the wildest excitement, and
had told them, with every appearance of truth
and of being herself excessively frightened,
that " that old man there" had snatched off
her hat and tried to cut her hair, they had
readily believed her — as an old man was
really there — and had turned about and run
away in great alarm. They had been terrified
half out of their senses ; and now here was
Hattie confessing — yes, glorying, till Miss
Ashton came — that she had " tricked " them,
that she was " only in fun," it was all " a
joke."

But her triumph was speedily brought to an
end, when Miss Ashton saw Belle's state, and
heard how it had been brought about. She
sternly reprimanded Hattie, and bade her go
into the house, and remain there.

But where was Bessie ?

The other children declared that " an old
man was really there ;" and, in spite of Hattie's
confession that she had only been joking,
Maggie's mind was filled with visions of her

An Excursion. 51

little sister's sunny curls in the hands of a
ruffian ; and away she flew in search of her,
quite regardless of any supposed risk to her
own wealth of dark, waving ringlets.

III.

JESSIE AND UER GRANDFATHER.

1HERE was Bessie?

When Lily and Belle turned to run
from the figure which Hattie pointed
out as that of the man who attacked her. she
started with them, quite as much alarmed as
the other two ; and, if they thought about it
at all, they imagined she was close behind them.
But she had gone only a few steps when she
heard a voice, a weak voice, calling after her-
self and her companions, and saying, —

" Don't be afraid, little girls ; don't run away,
little ladies. Couldn't ye stop a minute to
help an old man ? "

Jessie and her Grandfather. 53

Something in the tones touched the tender
little heart of Bessie ; and she checked her
steps, ready to start again, however, on the
shortest notice, and looked back at the old
man.

A very old man he seemed, and a very
feeble old man, scarcely able, if he had the
will, to run after active little girls, or to do
them any harm. His hair was very white,
and his face pinched and thin ; but he looked
kind and gentle, as Bessie saw, even from the
distance at which she stood ; and her fears
died away as she looked at him.

The old man sat upon a bank ; and Bessie
stood hesitating and watching him, trying to
make up her mind to go and ask if he was in
trouble. She saw that he had dropped his
stick, which had rolled away, and lay on the
ground just beyond his reach.

" Would you do an old man a kindness, and
give him his stick, little Miss?" he called to
her, pointing at the same time to the cane.
" Why did ye all run that way ? I wouldn't

54 Jessie's Parrot.

hurt a hair of your heads, more than I would
of my own Jessie's."

This reference to the " hair on their heads"
was rather unfortunate, for it startled Bessie
again, and brought back the cause for alarm.
Was the old man really in trouble, and unable
to reach his stick ? she thought, or was this
only a trap to catch her, and deprive her of
her curls?

So she stood still, hesitating ; and the old
man, as if in despair of receiving any help from
her, tried toTaise himself a little, and stretched
out his trembling hand towards the stick. But
it was useless ; it lay too far ; he could not
rise without its aid, and he sank back again,
looking more helpless and feeble than before.
This was too much for Bessie. She could not
bear to see suffering and not try to relieve it ;
and it seemed to her that it would be cruel and
wicked not to lend a helping hand to this poor
old creature.

" Please, dear Father in heaven, not to let
him hurt me," she whispered softly to herself;

Jessie anu her Grandfather. 55

and then walked slowly towards the old man,
her little heart beating painfully, it must be
confessed, in spite of her petition, and the
trust that it would be heard.

Keeping at as great a distance as it would
allow, she stooped for the stick, and held it out
at arm's length to the owner.

" Now may He that blesses the cup of cold
water given in His name reward you," said the
old man, as he took it from the timid little
hand ; " but why are you frightened at me,
dear, and why did the other little ones run as
if they were scared half out of their lives?
When you passed all in the big stage, laughing
and so gay, it put a warmth into my heart
that hasn't been there for many a day, and I
b'lieve it was your own loving, little face that
smiled back at me as I waved my hat to
you for a blessing on your joy. Why, I
wouldn't hurt a living thing; least of all, little
girls that always mind me of my Jessie.
Though it's different enough that you are from
her, my poor lamb," he added in a lower tone,

56 'Jessie's Parrot.

which Bessie could not have heard had she not
now drawn nearer to him.

For with the first words of the old man's
speech, all fear had vanished from her mind.
He had called down a blessing on her in a
name which she knew and loved, and she
could not be afraid of him longer. Besides,
now that she looked at him more closely and
with unprejudiced eyes, she recognized him,
and remembered how, as he said, when the
stage had passed him with its merry load, he
had taken off his hat and feebly cheered and
waved to them as they went by.

" Don't you try to cut off little girls' hair ? "
she could not help asking, in spite of her
new confidence.

" I ? " answered the old man surprised ; " and
why would I do that ? Ah ! I see. Did you
take me for that fellow ? My little lady, they
have him fast in jail, as he deserves; but how did
you ever think I would do a thing like that ? "

" A little girl said you tried to cut hers."
answered the child.

Jessie and" her Grandfather. 57

" Then that little girl slandered an old man
who had never harmed her," he said gravely.
" I understand ; she's frightened you for her
own fun, or whatever it may be. Well, I'm
up now," — he had slowly and painfully raised
himself by the help of his cane, — " and I'd
better be moving away, or the sight of me
after that may spoil your pleasure. It was hard
in her to turn you against one who would never
have harmed you ; but you're a sensible little
lady, and a kind, and you'll never be the worse
for doing a good turn to an old man."

" Don't go away," said Bessie, " the other
children won't be afraid of you when I tell
them Hattie — was — was — mistaken." Bes-
sie feared that Hattie's tale was more than a
mistake, but she would not accuse her until
she was sure. " They won't want you to go
away, poor, lame man."

" Jessie stays so long," he answered, look-
ing about him helplessly. " She sat me here
to rest a while, and I think she can't know
how long she's been gone."

58 Jessie's Parrot.

Before Bessie could speak again, around the
hedge came Maggie, who stopped short in
amazement at seeing her sister standing talk-
ing sociably to the dreaded old man. And
with her curls all safe !

Maggie could hardly believe her own eyes.
She went forward more slowly, till Bessie
called to her, —

" 0 Maggie, dear ! this old man wouldn't
hurt us, or cut our hair for any thing. He
likes little girls, and it made him feel badly
because we ran away from him, and he is going '
away now 'cause he thinks we don't like him.
Come and tell him not to."

Timid Maggie, feeling very doubtful, but
determined to share her sister's risk, whatever
that might be — she had almost forgotten that
Hattie had confessed she only wanted to trick
them all — drew still nearer, and taking
Bessie's hand, gazed up at the old man with
eyes in which pity and sympathy began to
struggle with her former fear. He looked so
poor and feeble and helpless, so little like
doing harm to any one.

Jessie and her Grandfather. 59

And now came Dora and Gracie, who had
followed Maggie, in search of Bessie ; and as
the little group gathered about the old man,
Bessie said, —

" Where is your Jessie ? Can we call her to
you?"

" I can't tell, little Miss," he answered.
" I've been sitting here more than an hour, I
take it. Jessie was so eager about her parrot
that she has maybe forgotten how long she's
been away. Ah ! there she comes now."

As he spoke, a child came running towards
them, but seeing the group about her grand-
father, paused in amazement at a short distance.

It was the very same little girl to whom
they had thrown sugar-plums but an hour
since, and who had looked so disappointed.
The children recognized her immediately.

" Why ! that's the little girl who was not
pleased with our sugar-plums," said Bessie.
" Is that your Jessie ? "

The old man beckoned to her, and she came
forward.

60 Jessie's Parrot.

" This is my Jessie, Miss," he answered,
" and a good girl she is too. I don't know
what her old grandfather would do without
her. She's given up the dearest thing she had
for me, bless her ! "

Jessie was now standing beside her grand-
father, blushing and hanging her head at the
notice thus drawn upon her.

" What was that ? " asked Dora.

" Her parrot, Miss. A splendid parrot that
her father, who's now dead and gone, brought
her from beyond the seas. You'd think he
was a human creature 'most, to hear him talk,
and she loved him next to her old grandfather ;
but she parted with him for my sake."

" Didn't you like him ? " asked Bessie.

" Yes, indeed, Miss. I was 'most as fond of
the bird as she was herself ; but it wasn't to be
helped. You see I was sick so long, and the
doctor bid me take a medicine that cost a
deal of money, to drive the pain out of my
bones ; and how were we to get it when we'd
not enough to buy bread from day to day, or

Jessie and her Grandfather. 61

to pay the rent that was due ? So she sold her
bird, for I can't do a hand's turn of work just
yet."

" That was good of her," said Gracie ; " did
she get all the money she wanted for him ? "

" More than we expected, Miss, for the man
that keeps the house here," pointing to the
Casino, " gave her ten dollars for him. And
he lets her see him every day, and says when
the summer is over she may have him back
for eight dollars if she can raise it. For Poll
draws people to the refreshment place, you
see, with his funny ways, and his wonderful
talk, and the keeper thinks he'll get two dol-
lars worth out of him before the summer is
over. But, Jessie '11 never raise all that
money, though I have put by my pride, and let
her ask charity here of the folks in the Park."

" And I don't feel that I ought to take it for
that, either," said Jessie, as soon as the talka-
tive old man paused for breath, and let her have
a chance to speak, " 'cause grandfather needs so
many things, and the rent will be falling due

62 Jessie's Parrot.

before long again, so I must save up for straws
and ribbon."

" For what ? " asked Bessie, while at the
same moment Dora said, —

" Why don't you find some work and earn
money that way ? "

" For straws and ribbon, Miss," said Jessie,
answering Bessie's question first ; then turning
to Dora, she added, —

" I would work, Miss, and I do, when I have
the things. I make little baskets and catch-
alls, and allumette holders of ribbon and straw
and beads, and I sell them wherever I can ;
but the stock was all gone long ago, and I've
no more to begin on."

" But," said Dora, " if people give you
money, why don't you take that to buy your
materials ? "

Jessie shook her head sadly.

" It has taken every cent that's been given
to me to buy just bread enough for me and
grandfather to eat, Miss," she said ; " there
was nothing to spare for any thing else, and any

Jessie and her Grandfather. 63

•way it is an uncertain thing, the selling of the
baskets, till the weather is pleasant and warm,
and people like to stop. Now, you see, is the
time for me to be making them ready; but
there's no use in thinking about it, and as for
Poll," —

Jessie's sigh and filling eyes told of the
despair with which she thought of the recovery
of her pet.

" I have some money in my charity-box at
home," said Maggie eagerly ; " I'll give you
some to buy straws and ribbon. I have no
money with me, but Miss Ashton will lend me
some for such a good purpose, I know, and I'll
pay her as soon as we go home. I'll run and
ask her."

But there was no need, for there was
Miss Ashton come in search of her stray lambs,
and in two minutes she had heard the story.

Heard it, but scarcely understood it, for that
was difficult with one and another putting in a
word, patching it out in various bits ; to say
nothing of the circumstance that our little

64 Jessie's Parrot.

girls themselves scarcely understood what they
were talking about.

Jessie and her grandfather — who had noth-
ing to say now that the lady had come, and who
stood close to one another, the old man holding
his hat in his hand and leaning on his stick —
were somewhat confused themselves by the chat-
ter and flutter of the eager little talkers ; and
when Miss Ashton turned to the latter and
began to inquire into his story, his usual flow
of words seemed to have failed him.

Miss Ashton spoke to Jessie.

"Grandfather was just telling the little
ladies about my Polly, ma'am," she said
modestly. " If they'd like to see him he's in
the house there. And if you'd like to have
him show off he'll talk better for me than for
any one else, and I'll go and coax him."

" Oh ! can we go and see him ? " said Bessie ;
and Jessie once more saying, yes, and that she
would go with them, the little girls ran off,
while Miss Ashton remained to hear the old
man's story.

Jessie and her Grandfather. 65

It was a sad, but by no means an uncommon
one. Jessie's mother bad died when she was
a baby. Her father, who was mate on a sail-
ing-vessel, had been drowned at sea about tw3
years ago. Until his death, his wages,
together with what the old man made at stone-
cutting, had supported them all in comfort.
And even after that, the grandfather and the
child had continued to keep along on what the
former earned. Jessie, who was twelve years
old, had been to school pretty steadily till a
year ago, could " read and write and do up
sums," and had also learned to sew.

But about that time the grandfather had
taken a heavy cold, from being thoroughly wet
with rain while at his work ; and, neglecting to
change his clothes, it had settled in all his
joints, and a long and painful rheumatic illness
followed. All tKe last summer he had lain
bound hand and foot, the pretty trifles which
Jessie had learned to make the sole support
of the two. But with the winter the sale of her
little wares had fallen off, poverty and suffering
5

66 Jessies Parrot.

had increased upon them, and they had gone
from bad to worse, till, as he had told the little
girls, Jessie had been forced to sell her beloved
parrot to keep a roof above their heads, and
to buy the medicine so much needed for hei
grandfather. They had some help from the
church at which they attended, but that was
little. And now that it was warmer weather,
and Jessie could begin to sell her wares, she
had no money to buy materials, and he had
consented that she should ask charity of
passers-by, and so gain a few shillings to begin
her trade.

They lived over there in a sad, tumble-down
place, the old man said, " and he never thought
to bring his Jessie to that ; but the Lord had
His own ways, and when He saw fit, He could
take them out of this trouble."

The story was told with a straightforward
simplicity, and a natural pathos which went
far to convince Miss Ashton that it must be
true ; but she took down the name and address
of the clergyman of whom the old man spoke.

Jessie and her Grandfather. 67

This gentleman lived in one of the streets
bordering on the Park, and Miss Ashton re-
solved to see him and hear his report before
she left for home. If these poor people were
really in such need, and deserving of help, she
could not let them suffer longer than was nec-
essary.

She told old Malcolm — for that he said was
his name — that he did not do well to rest
upon the bank. The ground, she. said, was not
yet warm enough for his aching bones.

But he answered that it was far better than
the damp, cold shanty where he and Jessie had
lived for the last two months, for here on a
bright day he had the sunshine, and the fresh,
clear air, and little of either of these ever
found their way into the miserable cabin.

Malcolm's language and manner, as well as
those of his grand-daughter, showed that he
had indeed been used to " better days ; " and
he seemed so patient and uncomplaining that
Miss Ashton felt much interested in him,
and anxious to do something for his relief

68 Jessie's Parrot.

She bade him come farther on, and find a
seat upon a pleasant, sunny bench, where slio
would furnish him and Jessie with some food ;
but when she said this, he told her some of the
little ones of her party were afraid of him,
and he did not wish to trouble them.

He looked troubled himself when he said
this ; and Miss Ashton had to tell him that
one of her young scholars had been so foolish
and wrong as to tell a falsehood — she could
call it nothing less — to frighten the others;
but that they all knew the truth now, and would
be afraid of him no longer.

IV.

THE PARROT.

E AN WHILE the children were amus-

\

ing themselves with the parrot. The
whole flock had followed Jessie to
make his acquaintance, Maggie having called
the others to join them ; and even the still sob-
bing Belle forgot her troubles in this new
object of interest.

The bird proved to be in a most amiable
and sociable humor ; and, to the great delight
of his former little mistress, exhibited himself
in a most gratifying manner.

His cage was placed before a little stand
just outside of a window opening upon the

70 "Jessie's Parrot.

verandah ; and when the children first saw
him he was swinging head downwards from
one of the bars, hanging by one claw, and ap-
pearing to take no notice of any thing until
Jessie called to him.

Then he put out the other claw, and swung
himself upright ; immediately commencing a
kind of dance upon his perch, as if in an
ecstacy, and calling out, —

"Jessie! Jessie! pretty Jessie, good Jessie."

" Good Polly," said Jessie, while the chil-
dren gathered around in great delight. " How
are you, Polly ? "

" Polly pretty well ; Polly all right," answered
the bird.

The little girls were astonished, as indeed
were the ladies who had accompanied them.
Not one among the group but had often seen
parrots who would repeat certain set phrases,
but this bird actually answered questions, and
as if he understood them too.

" What does Polly want ? " asked Jessie, de-
lighted at the sensation her pet was producing.

The Parrot. 71

" Polly want a bit of sugar," answered the
bird.

Jessie put her hand into her pocket, and
produced one of the sugar-plums the children
had thrown to her, and held it up before the
parrot's greedy eyes.

" Dance a jig then, and sing a song, Polly,"
she said.

Polly forthwith commenced a kind of see-
saw on his perch, swaying his body back and
forth, balancing himself first on one foot, then
on the other, in a measured sort of way which
he probably supposed to be dancing. At any
rate, his audience were contented to accept it
as such, and he met with continued applause,
until suddenly bringing his gyrations to
a close he screamed in a loud, discordant
voice, —

"Sugar!"

" Sing then," said Jessie.

In a sharp, cracked, but very distinct voice,
and with some resemblance to a tune, the par-
rot began, —

72 Jessie's Parrot.

" Mary had a little lamb,

Its fleece was white as snow,
And everywhere that " —

Here he came to an abrupt close, eying the
sugar-plum wistfully.

" Sing it," said Jessie ; and he began again.

" Mary had a little lamb,

Its fleece was white as snow,
And everywhere that Mary went,

The lamb — sugar — sugar — sugar,"

screamed the creature, amid peals of laughter
from the children, who now begged that he
might have the coveted reward, which Jessie
accordingly gave him.

" He knows it all," she said ; " but I can
hardly ever make him sing it through."

Poll took the sugar-plum gingerly in one
claw, and sat nibbling at it till it was all gone,
while the children crowded around him, ad-
miring his gay, bright-colored feathers, and
expressing their wonder at his accomplishments
and sense.

" Now you must show off some more,"
said Jessie, when the bird had disposed of

The Parrot. 73

his feast. "Polly, where is the naughty
child?"

To the intense delight of the children, Poll
began to scream and cry exactly like a passion-
ate child, after which he laughed and chuckled
with satisfaction at his own performances,
then crowed like a rooster, baa-ed like a nanny-
goat, barked like a dog, and mewed like a cat.
After all this he took up intelligent conversa-
tion again.

" Polly's a pr-r-r-etty bird ; Polly's a good
bird ; Polly's a wise bird," he screamed, in all
of which his little hearers entirely agreed.

" Who do you love, Polly ? " asked Jessie.

" Polly love Jessie ; Jessie a good girl," was
the answer.

" Where's your master, Polly ? "

" Bob Malcolm gone to sea. Good-bye,
good-bye, good-bye," screamed the parrot.

" Sing a song of" — began Jessie, and tho
parrot took up the strain.

" Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocket full of rye " —

74 Jessie's Parrot.

Here he came to a stop, nor could he be
coaxed to finish the couplet, though Jessie
assured the audience that he could, if he chose,
sing the first four lines of the old song all
through.

However, he condescended to repeat some
of his former performances. But it would
take too long to tell all the feats of this remark-
able bird ; and you must not think that these
I have related are quite impossible, for I have
seen a parrot who could do all that is here
described, and more too. The children were
so interested and amused that they could
scarcely be persuaded to leave him when
Patrick announced that their lunch was ready ;
and Jessie, who was bidden by Miss Ashton to
join her grandfather and share the meal pro
vided for him, was begged to keep within call,
so that they might return to the entertainment
when they had finished their lunch.

While this was going on, Miss Ashton told
the story she had heard from old Malcolm, and
said that she was so much interested in him

The Parrot. 75

and his grandchild, that she would go after
lunch and see the clergyman, while the little
girls amused themselves for a while under the
care of the other ladies. She carried out this
purpose, and went on her kind errand, followed
by many a hope that she would find the story
all correct.

But when the children went back to the
parrot they were disappointed, for he proved
cross or tired or in a less sociable mood than
he had been before, and he very rudely turned
his back upon them, and would utter no words
save, —

" Hold your tongue ! Hold your tongue ! "
every time any one spoke to him. So, finding
this neither polite nor amusing, the company
left him and scattered themselves in search of
other entertainment.

" How sober you look, Maggie ; what are
you thinking about ? " asked Hattie Leroy,
coming up to where Maggie Bradford stood
(eaning upon a stone railing.

Maggie looked thoughtful, it may be, but

76 Jessie's Parrot.

hardly sober, for her thoughts seemed pleasant
ones, to judge by the light in her eye, and tho
half smile upon her lip.

" I have an idea," said Maggie, " and I
think it's a nice one, at least if we are allowed
to do it."

" What is it ? " asked Hattie.

" Well," said Maggie, " I don't care to have
it talked about very much till we know if we
can do it ; but I was thinking it would be so
nice if we could have a little fair, just our
selves, you know, the school-children and
Bessie and me. I know some children who
had a fair in their own house, and they made
money enough to pay for a bed in St. Luke's
Hospital for a poor, lame child ; and I thought
perhaps we could make enough to buy back
Jessie's parrot for her ; and to make a more
comfortable home for them. We could make
things for the fair, and ask our friends to help
us. Mamma would make some for us, I know,
and so will Aunt Annie, and, I think, Aunt
Bessie and Aunt May."

The Parrot. 77

" Where could we have it ? " asked Hattie,
who seemed much interested.

" In one of our own houses," said Maggie, "or,
— that was another thought I had, — perhaps
Miss Ashton would be so very good as to let us
have it at her house. The piazza would be
lovely for it ; and she generally lets us have
some party-ish kind of a thing when school
breaks up. Last year we had a giving of
prizes ; and at Christmas we had a Christmas
festival, and a queen both times."

" Yes," said Hattie, " and Gracie said it was
shameful that you were queen both times.
She thinks it was very selfish in you."

Maggie colored violently.

" The queen was chosen," she said, " and the
girls chose me. I did not make myself queen."

" Well, Gracie did not like it one bit," said
Hattie, " and she thinks you had no right to be
queen when you did not go to the school the
last time."

Maggie was silent, but the gladness was
gone from her face.

78 Jessie's Parrot.

" Wouldn't it be too cold to have the fair on
the piazza ? " asked Hattie.

" Not by the time we are ready," said Mag-
gie. " You know it will take a good while to
make enough things, and Miss Ashton does
not close the school till the first of June. I
heard her tell mamma so the other day. And
by that time it will be quite warm and plea-
sant, and there will be plenty of flowers. I
was thinking we could dress the piazza with
wreaths and festoons and flags ; and we could
make some kind of a throne and canopy at one
end. And there we could have the flower-table
and the queen behind it, with some maids of
honor to sell flowers."

If Maggie imagined that Hattie would
express any admiration or approval of her
plan, she was mistaken. Hattie seemed inter-
ested, and asked a great many questions, as to
how Maggie would arrange such and such
matters, but she did not act as if she thought
the " idea" very fine after all, and this was
rather different from the way in which Maggie

The Parrot. 79

was accustomed to have her plans received.
But she did not care for that ; she was not a
vain child, constantly seeking for admiration,
and she was too full of her subject to pay much
heed to Hattie's cool way of hearing this
one.

" I'm not going to say much about it till I
see if mamma approves," she said. " Then
I'll ask Miss Ashton and tell all the children
about it. There are Bessie and Lily beckoning
to me ; let us go and see what they want."

And away she ran, intending to tell her
sister and Belle and Lily of her plan on the
first convenient opportunity ; but not willing,
as she had said, to make it public till she
learned if it could be carried out. She did
not yet feel as if she knew Hattie very well,
and she was rather astonished at herself for
having talked so freely to her ; but the truth
was, that Hattie had come upon her rather un-
awares, and asked her what she was thinking
of, at the moment when she was turning her
" idea" over in her mind, and she had told her

8o Jessie's Parrot.

almost without reflection. Still she did not
exactly regret having done so, and, after what
she had said, never supposed that Hattie would
mention what she had told her.

Upright, honorable Maggie judged others by
herself, and was entirely unsuspicious of evil.

It would take too much space in this little
book, and you would not care to have a
particular description of all the various points
of interest visited by our party throughout
the day, — the Arsenal with its collection of
wild beasts and monkeys ; the great reservoir
with its blue water, looking like a lake within
walls, as indeed it is ; the lovely Ramble
through which they wandered for a long time,
and many another pleasant spot. They are all
familiar to many of you, and those to whom
they are not, may make acquaintance with
them some day.

You may be sure that Miss Ashton did not
leave old Malcolm and his grand-daughter
without some remembrance of this day, for she
was not only very sorry for them and felt that

The Parrot. 81

they were really in need of assistance, but she
also knew that Jessie and her wonderful bird
had added much to the entertainment of hei
little flock. She gave Jessie money enough to
furnish herself with materials to begin her little
trade again, and, leaving her address with her,
bade her bring some of her pretty toys to her
house when they should be made.

They were all in the omnibus once more,
and had started on their homeward way, all
rather tired and quiet with the day's ramble,
when what was Maggie's astonishment to hear
Hattie say, —

" Miss Ashton, Maggie and I have such a
very nice plan. We thought we might have a
fair, just us children, and ask our friends to
help us ; and then we could sell the things we
made, or that were given to us, and so earn a
good deal of money to help Jessie and her
grandfather, and to buy back the parrot for
her. And we might have it when the weather
is warm and pleasant, just before school closes,
so that we could have it out of doors ; and
6

82 Jessie's Parrot.

perhaps, Miss Ashton, you would not mind
letting us hold it on your piazza and in the
garden. And Jessie might make some of her
pretty baskets and things for it, and we could
sell them for her. We thought we could raise
a good deal of money that way, for almost all
our friends would be glad to come."

It would be hard to tell whether indignation
or surprise was uppermost in Maggie's mind,
as she sat utterly speechless and confounded,
while Hattie ran on thus, disclosing in this
public manner the plans which she had said
were to be kept secret until her own mamma
and Miss Ashton had heard and approved of
them.

Yes, here was Hattie not only doing this,
but speaking as if she had been the inventor
of the cherished " idea," and as if Maggie had
only fallen in with it, perhaps helped it out a
little.

Maggie was too shy to speak out as many
children would have done, and to say, —

" That was my plan, Miss Ashton. I was

The Parrot. 83

the first one to think of that ; " and she
sat with her color changing, and her eyes fixed
wonderingly and reproachfully on Hattie as
she spoke, feeling somehow as if she had been
wronged, and yet not exactly seeing the way
to right herself.

" Oh ! that would be delightful," said Gracie.
" Miss Ashton, do you think you could let us
do it?"

" Well, I might," said Miss Ashton. " That
is not a bad idea, Hattie. I will talk to my
mother about it and see what she thinks, and
you may all tell your friends at home, and
learn if they approve."

"If we could have the fair on your piazza,"
continued Hattie eagerly, " we could dress it
up very prettily with wreaths and flowers, and
we could make a kind of a bower at one end, and
choose one of the girls for a queen, and let it
be her throne-room, and there we could have
the flower-table. Some of the children told
me you always let them have a festival before
vacation, Miss Ashton ; and we might put it

84 Jessies Parrot.

off till a little later, so that it would be warm
and pleasant, and we should have plenty of
flowers."

There was not one of the children who did
not raise her voice in favor of the new plan
except Nellie Ransom, who sat opposite to
Maggie, and who watched her changing face,
and looked from her to Hattie with inquiring
and rather suspicious looks.

Lily clapped her hands, and almost sprang
from her seat.

" I'll begin to work for the fair this very
evening ! " she said. " No more of your put-
ting off for me. ".I'll bring down mamma's
ribbon-box and worsted-box, if she'll let me,
and ask her what I can have, and to-morrow
I'll ask her to let me make something."

" And we'll ask mamma and Aunt Annie,
won't we, Maggie ? " said Bessie ; " and
Belle, we'll ask them for some things for you
too."

Bessie received no answer from Maggie, who,
feeling as if the whole matter had been taken

The Parrot. 85

out of her hands, poor child, and as if she had
been robbed of her property, dared not speak,
lest she should burst into tears.

" I have a whole lot of money saved up,"
said Lily, u and I'll take some of it to buy
what I want to make pretty things, and keep
the rest to spend at the fair."

" Haven't you to pay your missionary money
to our box yet ? " asked Bessie.

" Well, I haven't paid it yet," said Lily, " but
I don't know if I will give a dollar this year.
I've supported the heathen for two years now,
and I think I'd like a little change of charity.
Wouldn't you, Maggie ? "

Maggie only nodded assent, scarce knowing
what question she was replying to.

" Maggie," said Belle, " you don't seem
very interested ; why don't you talk about
the fair and give us new ideas, as you 'most
always do ? "

" Docs something provoke you or trouble
you, Maggie, dear ? " asked Bessie, looking
into her sister's perplexed face.

86 Jessie's Parrot.

" Hattie," said Nellie suddenly, fixing her
eyes searchingly on the little girl she addressed,
" what put that idea of the fair into your
hoad?"

" Oh ! " answered Hattie in some confusion,
"I — that is, we, Maggie and I, just thought
it would be nice, and so we talked about it a
little, and made up our minds to ask Miss
Ashton about it."

Quick-witted Lily caught Nellie's suspicion,
and so did Bessie ; and the former, who had
worn an air of displeasure with Hattie ever since
the affair of the morning, asked promptly, —

" Who was the first to make up that idea, —
the fair and the queen in the flower bower,
and dressing the piazza and all ? Who was it,
I say?"

" Well, " answered Hattie reluctantly,
" Maggie was the first to think about it, and
we talked it over together and arranged it
all."

"I knew it !" cried Lily triumphantly ; " I just
knew it was Maggie. It sounds just like her

The Parrot. 87

making up. Hattie," she added reproachfully,
" you tried to make us think it was yours."

" I didn't," said Hattie. " I never said so."

" You didn't just say so," said Bessie
solemnly, " but you tried to give that depres-
sion"

" I didn't," pouted Hattie again ; " and we
did talk about it together, didn't we, Maggie ? "

Maggie only gave a faint smile by ' way of
answer, for she felt that she could not honestly
allow that Hattie had suggested one single
idea ; and still she was too generous to wish
to blame her more than she could avoid.

And for the second time that day was Hattie
made to feel that her want of strict truthful-
ness had lowered her in the eyes of her young
companions.

" Umph ! " said Lily severely ; " appears to
me, Miss Hattie " —

But she was not allowed to finish the intend-
ed reproach, for Miss Ashton, seeing symp-
toms of a quarrel, hastened to avert it, and
gently bade Lily be quiet.

88 Jessie's Parrot.

Lily obeyed ; but her eye still rested sternly
upon Hattie, and the latter was forced to bear
more than one disapproving gaze during the
remainder of the drive home.

" I am afraid," said Miss Ashton to her
mother that evening, " that Hattie Leroy is by
no means a truthful child ; " and she told of
the occurrences of the day, adding that it was
not the first time she had noticed a want of
openness and uprightness, little acted deceits,
a keeping back of the whole truth, and even,
now and then a deliberate falsehood ; and
more than all, a manner of repeating a thing
which gave it a very different meaning from
what the speaker intended, so often making
mischief and discomfort.

" That is bad, very bad," said Mrs. Ashton ;
" it may affect the other children."

" I would rather hope that they may have a
good influence on her," answered her daughter.
" The standard of truth is so high in our
school, thanks, I believe, to dear little Bessie
Bradford, Maggie, Belle, and one or two others,

The Parrot. 89

that any departure from it is considered a very
serious offence. Lily, with all her thoughtless-
ness and love of mischief, is strictly truthful ;
so are Dora and Nellie. Gracie is the only one
for whom I fear, for, although I think she would
be shocked at the idea of telling a deliberate
untruth, her conceit and wish to be first are so
great that they often lead her to exaggerate
and give a false coloring to what she says of
herself as compared with others."

V.

GRANDMAMMA HOWARD.

| HE proposal for the fair met with a
pretty general approval from the
parents and friends of the little girls,
and they received many promises of help.

"• Aunt Annie " undertook to show Maggie,
Bessie, and Belle how to make any pretty
articles they might wish to undertake. Lily's
mamma did the same for her, and none of the
children were left entirely without assistance.

When Jessie came to Miss Ashton with her
pretty little wares, she was told what was pro-
posed, and bidden to have as large a supply as
possible, so that they might be offered for sale
with the other articles ; and the lady and some

Grandmamma Harvard. 91

of her friends kindly bought so many of those
already on hand that Jessie was furnished with
the means of procuring her materials at once.

The older class in Mrs. Ashtoii's room also
entered with spirit into the affair, promising all
the assistance that they could give, so that
there was good prospect it would be a success.
The time fixed was the first day of June, if
the weather should be pleasant ; if not, the
first fair day after that.

One morning Grade Howard came to school
in a state of great excitement.

" My grandmamma," she said to the other
children, " takes the greatest interest in our
fair, and she is going to give us ever so many
things for it. She told me to invite you all to
come to her house this afternoon, and she has
a whole lot of pieces of silk and ribbons, and
worsteds and beads, and ever so many lovely
things to divide among us. And what is bet-
ter still, she says she would like each child to
make some article expressly for her, and she
will buy it "

92 Jessie's Parrot.

" Oh, delightful ! " " How kind ! how nice ! "
" What a great help ! " came from one and
another of her little hearers.

" And," continued Gracie, warming with
her subject, " she wants some particular
things. Two toilet sets of lace and muslin,
one lined and trimmed with blue, the other
with pink ; and two mats for flower vases, to be
exactly alike. I am going to do one of the
mats, and grandmamma says she thinks the
other one and both the toilet sets had better
be made by some of us older children, because
she thinks the little ones can scarcely do them.
And she will give ten dollars for the mat that
is worked the most nicely and evenly, and
nine for the other ; eight for the best toilet set,
and seven for the second; and she will give
us all the materials. Just think of that!
Why, whoever has the best mat will earn more
than the price of Jessie's parrot! I wanted
grandmamma to say that one might have the
buying of the parrot for her own part; but
she said that would not be just to the rest who

Grandmamma Howard. 93

had a share in the fair; and that she had no
right to say so, either. I don't see why, and
1 think she might have let me."

" Why, you don't know that you will have
the nicest mat," said Lily.

" See if I don't then," said Gracie. " I can
work much better than any of you, I know."

" If I didn't live in such a very glass house
myself, I'd say petticoat to you," said Lily,
who had lately shown a fancy for the use of
proverbs, after the manner of Maggie Bradford.

Gracie tossed her head, and put on the ex-
pression which children call, " turning up their
noses."

She knew very well what Lily meant, how
not long since she had boasted of herself, and
been so very sure that she would outdo all
others, and how she had miserably failed in
the end.

But, in spite of this consciousness, she was
not at all taken down by Lily's reminder, for
she felt herself a person of more than usual
consideration and importance that morning;

94 Jessie's Parrot.

not without more than ordinary reason, was
thought by most of her companions, for it was
really a fine thing to have such a munificent-
grandmamma, who was ready to do so much
for the grand object at present in the minds
of each and every one.

It was true also, and well known in the
school that Grade did worsted work remark-
ably well and evenly for a little girl, and that
there was more reason than common for her
belief that she should outshine all the others.
Still her constant boasting was never agreeable,
and Lily always would set herself to combat it
with all her might.

" Are not Maggie and Bessie to try with us
too ? " she asked.

" Of course," answered Gracie ; " they are
just as much in the fair as we are ; and Mag-
gie works so nicely."

" Should think she did," said Lily ; " better
than cwiy — child — in — the — whole — world."

The extreme deliberation with which this
was said, made it very forcible, and gave the

Grandmamma Howard. 95

remark all the point which was intended.
Woe to the person who, in Lily's hearing, ven-
tured to deny that her particular friends, Mag-
gie and Bessie Bradford, were not all that was
wisest, best, and prettiest.

" Besides," said Belle, " Bessie was the first
to find out Jessie and her grandfather, so it
seems as if it was very much her charity and
Maggie's. Good-morning, dear Miss Ashton ; "
and little Belle flew to meet her teacher, whom
she dearly loved, and began to tell her of
this new and delightful arrangement.

But she had hardly commenced when she
checked herself, and saying, —

" But it is Grade's to tell about, and I ex-
pect she would like to," turned to her school-
mate, and allowed her, nothing loath, to take
up the tale.

Miss Ashton approved, and readily consent-
ed to what was proposed ; but she was sorry
to see that, as usual, Gracie took the chief cred-
it, and claimed the first place for herself in
the new plan ; seeming, as before, not to have

g6 Jessie's Parrot.

the slightest doubt that her work would be the
best, and bring the highest premium. How-
ever, she would say nothing now to damp the
general pleasure and enthusiasm, but called
her young flock to the- business of the day
without reproof or remonstrance.

On the way home from school, Gracie
called to invite Maggie and Bessie to her
grandmamma's house that afternoon ; and at
the appointed hour the whole " committee," as
Maggie called it, were assembled in the drawing-
room of the kind old lady.

" Now," said Mrs. Howard, " we will settle
first who among you are to take these pieces
of work. Gracie seemed to think that all who
were able to work nicely would prefer worsted
work, so I have here two pairs of mats, as well
as the toilet sets ; and you may decide for
yourselves which you will take. As for the
younger ones, I will leave it to them to choose
the things they will make for me, as each one
knows what she is best able to do."

Graci^ looked dismayed and displeased at

Grandmamma Howard. 97

the first part of her grandmother's speech;
and, not daring to object aloud, she whispered
to Hattie, who stood next her, —

" It's too bad ! There grandmamma goes
and gives three chances against me."

" Never mind, you'll have the first,"
answered Hattie ; " you know you work better
than any of the others."

" How many of you," continued the old
lady, " are able to do worsted work nicely ? "

" I can, grandmamma, very nicely," said
Gracie promptly, while the others, more modest
and shy, looked from one to another.

" Maggie Bradford works very nicely,
ma'am," said Nellie Ransom.

" And so do you too, my dear, if I'm not
mistaken," said Mrs. Howard. " Would you
like to do one of the mats ? "

" If you please, ma'am," said Nellie, and
stepping up, Mrs. Howard gave her her choice
among the mats.

" Ah ! you have made the same choice as
Gracie," said the old lady. " Well, we shall
7

98 Jessie's Parrot.

see who will do the best. Grade, take the
mat, my dear. Now for the other pair^
Maggie, will you have one ? "

But Maggie held back a little ; and at length,
with many blushes said, that she would prefer
to take one of the toilet sets, because Bessie
was anxious to help her, and she could do
some of the easy sewing on the ruffles, but
she could not do worsted work evenly enough
to go with her own.

Dora took one of the second pair of mats ;
and Hattie, who was next in age, and who
knew very little about embroidering, chose the
other to'ilet set, as she believed she could do
that better than the mat.

Maggie looked wishfully at this, and Mrs.
Howard saw the look.

" Would you like to take this also, Maggie,
dear ? " she said. " You deserve some reward
for being so unselfish, and if it is not too much
for you to undertake, you are quite welcome to
try it."

" Oh no, ma'am ! " said Maggie with bright-

Grandmamma Howard. 99

ening eyes ; " we have nearly seven weeks, you
know, and with Bessie's help, and Aunt Annie
to arrange all the work for me, I think I could
do both. But I don't care for a reward, Mrs.
Howard, for you know if Jessie and her grand-
father have the money, it does not make much
difference who does the most."

" No, truly," said Mrs. Howard ; " and it is
not that you may strive to outdo one another
that I make these 'offers, but only that you
may all try your best to have the work well
done. I am an old-fashioned woman, my
dears, and I like to see every little girl brought
up to use her needle properly, and to keep her
things in order ; so I say that it is not so
much the beauty of the work, as the care
and neatness with which it is done that I shall
look at. Keep it from spot or stain, or from
being frayed or rubbed ; this you can all do
with proper care."

Then Mrs. Howard repeated how much she
would give for each article, promising also
once more to buy some pretty trifle from each

ioo Jessie's Parrot.

of the younger children ; and they all felt as
if a large sum was already secure for Jessie
and her grandfather.

After this, the treasures of lace, muslin,
ribbons, flowers, beads, and worsteds of all
colors were displayed to their delighted eyes,
and divided with as much fairness as was
possible. Not a child but carried home with
her a most precious package, already in the
eyes of the little ones transformed into many
an article of use and beauty for the benefit of
old Malcolm and his grandchild. The fair was
now the all-absorbing subject of thought and
conversation among Miss Ashton's young
scholars and their little friends, Maggie and
Bessie Bradford ; and a fit of uncommon
industry had seized upon each and every one.

But, one morning, only two days after the
meeting of the young people at her house,
Mrs. Howard was surprised to hear that
Maggie Bradford wanted to sec her ; and
ordering her to be shown in, the little girl
entered, followed by her sister and nurse.

Grandmamma Howard. 101

Maggie looked flushed and uncomfortable,
and held a small parcel in her hand ; but, after
she had said good-morning to Mrs. Howard
a fit of shyness came over her, and she could
not tell her errand.

So Bessie spoke for her.

" Mrs. Howard," said the little girl, who was
herself rather confused, but who felt bound
to help Maggie out of her trouble, " Maggie
has come to bring you back the mat. She
thinks it is rather better for her not to do it."

" Did you find you had undertaken too
much, Maggie, my dear ? " asked the old lady
encouragingly.

" N-n-no, ma'am," whispered Maggie, pluck-
ing up a few crumbs of courage as she heard
the kind tone, " no, it was not that ; but we
thought I'd better bring it back to you."

" But you must have some reason," said
Mrs. Howard. " Can you not tell me what it
is ? Has Gracie been saying any thing unkind
to you ? "

" Gracie has not said any thing to me about
it, ma'am," said Maggie rather evasively.

IO2 Jessie's Parrot.

" Please don't ask us, Mrs. Howard," said
Bessie gravely. " Maggie and I overturned our
minds about it, and thought we'd better bring
back the mat ; but we do not want to tell
tales."

" Then I shall not ask," said Mrs. Howard ;
but from the very fact that Bessie had inno-
cently begged that they might not be pressed
to " tell tales," she felt that her suspicions
were tolerably correct. Gracie's desire to be
first, and the fear that others should excel, or
even equal her, were becoming so great that
they often blinded her to what was just and
kind.

" There are plenty of pretty things that we
can make, Mrs. Howard," said Maggie, " and
I would rather not do any thing that any one
might think was not my share."

" Very well, dear, as you please," answered
the old lady ; " but since you do not choose to
make this I shall not give it to any one else."

When Maggie and Bessie had gone, the old
lady put on her bonnet and went around to her

Grandmamma Howard. 103

son's house, where she found her little grand-
daughter at home.

" Grade," she said, after a little talk,
" Maggie Bradford came to see me just now,
bringing back the mat which she was to have
worked for the fair. Do you know any reason
why she should have done so ? "

" Why, no, grandmamma ! " answered Gracie,
turning her eyes upon her grandmother in un-
feigned and unmistakable surprise, which left
no doubt of the perfect truth of her answer.

" Think," said the old lady, believing that
she might have forgotten. " You know you
were not pleased that I should give Maggie
the two things to make for me ; have you said
any thing that could hurt her feelings, and show
her that you were displeased ? "

" I never said one word to Maggie about
the mat, grandmamma," said Gracie, " and I
can't see how " — she paused, as if struck by
some sudden thought, and coloring, added un-
easily— "I did talk to Hattie about it,
and I was rather provoked, because I did

104 Jessie's Parrot.

not see why Maggie should have a better
chance than the rest to make so much for the
fair. And — and — perhaps Hattie went and
told Maggie ; but it was real mean of her if
she did ; and besides there was nothing for
Maggie to be so mad at, and make such a fuss
about,"

" Maggie was not ' mad,' as you call it,
Gracie ; so far from it that she would say
nothing to throw blame upon you or any one
else," said her grandmother : " but it was plain
that she had been vexed and hurt."

" Gracie," said her mother who sat by, " it
would be a sad thing if you should show your-
self so wanting in feeling and gratitude as
to say unkind things of Maggie, or to injure
her in any way, especially in such a matter as
this."

" Well, mamma, and I'm sure I wouldn't,"
said Gracie, with a little pout. " I am very
fond of Maggie, and I wouldn't do a thing to
her ; but I did feel rather provoked about the
mat, only I did not mean her to know it. I'm

Grandmamma Howard. 105

just going to ask Hattie if she told her what
I said."

Gracie was really uncomfortable. She re-
membered that she had in a moment of pet-
tishness, made one or two remarks to Hattie
which she would not have cared to make in
Maggie's hearing ; but she would not willingly
have offended the latter. She knew very well
to what her mother referred when she spoke
of Maggie. How a year ago when a prize had
been offered for composition by Miss Ashton's
uncle, she and Maggie had been believed to
stand far ahead of the rest ; how her own com-
position, all ready for presentation, had been
lost, and that through her own inordinate van-
ity ; how Maggie and Bessie had found it, and
like the honorable little girls they were, had
brought it at once to her, although they believed
that by so doing Maggie was deprived of all
chance of the much wished-for prize. It was
true that neither she nor Maggie had gained it,
for it had fallen to Nellie Ransom ; but that
did not lessen, or should not have lessened,

io6 Jessie's Parrot.

Grade's gratitude to her little friend ; and as
her mother said, it ill became her to nurse any
feeling of jealousy towards Maggie.

" Gracie," said her mother, " can you re-
member exactly what you said about Maggie ? "

" No, inamma," answered the child, looking
thoughtful and a little troubled ; " but it was
not much, I think."

" I am afraid," said Mrs. Howard, " that a
very little sometimes becomes much in Hattie's
keeping. I do not know that she really wishes
to make mischief, but her love of talking and her
want of strict truthfulness lead her to exag-
gerate, and also, I fear, to repeat many a thing
with a very different meaning from that which
the speaker intended. The more I see of her,
the plainer does this become to me ; and I fear,
Gracie, that she is not a safe friend for you."

" Mamma," said Gracie, in a tone of some
offence, " you'd never think that Hattie could
make me learn to tell stories, do you ? Why,
I never told a falsehood in my life, and I'm
sure I'd never think of doing such a thing."

Grandmamma Howard. 107

" I am sure I hope not, my child," said her
mother, " but I fear temptation for you, Gracie ;
and I think Hattie encourages you in your
great fault, your self-conceit and desire for ad-
miration. And, although I do not think that
you ever mean to be untruthful, my daughter,
your idea of your own merits often leads you
into exaggeration of these, and makes you un-
willing to see them in others."

Gracie pouted, and put on the expression she
always wore if she were found fault with.

" Mamma," she said, " I think that is a very
horrid character to give any one ; and I am sure
you need not think I ever could tell a falsehood
or do any thing mean to any one."

" I do not say you would, Gracie. I only
want you to beware of temptation."

" I shan't fall into temptation, no fear of
that," said Gracie almost scornfully ; not scorn
of her mother, but of the idea that she was not
quite able to take care of herself, and that she
could be led into wrong-doing.

" And I shall be obliged to say," continued

io8 Jessie's Parrot.

Mrs. Howard, " that I do not think it best for
you to be so much with Hattie. She is doing
you no good. I cannot keep you apart
altogether, but you must not ask me to let
you have her here so often, nor can I allow
you to go to her house as much as you have
done. When I see you have a more gentle
and humble spirit, Gracie, and learning to
stand by another strength than your own, I
may not so much fear evil companionship for
you ; but this very belief that you cannot fall
makes you all the more ready to do so."

Gracie flounced out of the room in high dis-
pleasure, muttering to herself as she went up-
stairs that her mother always thought " every
one better than me," and " it was very unjust,"
and " just as if I could fall into the temptation
of telling a story."

Mrs. Howard sighed, and looked troubled,
as she well might ; and so did grandmamma, as
they talked together on this subject, and con-
sidered what was best to be done with Gracie.
Her overwhelming desire for admiration ; her

Grandmamma Howard. 109

wish to be first in every thing ; her self-conceit
and impatience of reproof were day by day
growing stronger and stronger, and overrun-
ning all that was fair and lovely in her character.
It was, as the mother had said, difficult to
break off all intercourse between her and
Hattie, although it was certain that the latter
was exercising no good influence on Gracie ;
for the two families were intimate, and it was
impossible, without giving offence, to keep the
two children entirely apart. Moreover, they
were schoolmates, and had grown really fond
of one another, although Gracie was losing
confidence in Hattie, as she could not but per-
ceive that she had by no means a strict regard
for truth.

But little did Gracie dream that Hattie's in •
fluence or example could ever lead her astray
in this way.

VI.

JEALOUSY.

JJAYS went by, and all was progressing
famously for the fair ; at least so
thought the little workers. New offers
of help came in ; new articles were promised,
and some even sent, early as it was, and these
were committed to Miss Ashton's keeping until
the appointed day — the first of June — should
arrive. Mrs. Bradford promised all the ice-
cream that should be needed for the refresh
ment table ; Mrs. Howard the strawberries ;
another mamma offered jelly ; two or three
cake ; Mr. Powers promised a quantity of
French bonbons; and from all sides came

Jealousy. ill

offers of flowers. Mr. Stanton. the little
Bradfords' " Uncle Ruthven," said he would
furnish flags and banners enough to deck the
piazza ; and mammas, grandmammas, aunts,
and cousins were coaxed and wheedled out of so
many bright ribbons for the same purpose, that
it might have been supposed that they were
expected to go in grave colors for the remain-
der of their days.

And if you had seen the doll that Miss
Annie Stanton and Her sister-in-law were
dressing as a baby!

If you had but seen that doll !

With a face so sweet, and so like a " real
live baby " that it almost startled one to come
upon it unawares in some place where the real
live baby could not have been found ! such
hands and feet ! and oh, such a fitting out !
Day by day the progress of that doll's ward-
robe was watched with eager, delighted eyes
by Maggie, Bessie, Belle, and Lily, who had
more opportunities for this than the rest of the
children. These last were, however, invited

112 Jessie's Parrot.

in every now and then, to see the wonder as it
grew ; and that doll became the great object
of interest, in comparison with which the re-
mainder of the fair arrangements were as
nothing. Every thing that was dainty and
pretty and cunning was furnished for the baby
doll ; not only clothes without number, but also
a tasteful cradle lined and trimmed with blue
silk, white muslin, and lace ; and a baby basket,
furnished completely with all that the most ex-
acting infant could require. In short, this was
plainly to be the grand attraction of the fair,
at least in the eyes of the younger portion of
its patrons, for the fame of the doll spread far
and wide, and great was the curiosity of those
who had never had the opportunity of witness-
ing its beauties.

And the question arose and was eagerly
discussed, who was to be the munificent pur-
chaser ? who, oh ! who, the fortunate pos-
sessor ? Papas and mammas were besieged
with petitions and coaxings, but wisely declined
making positive promises till the price of the

Jealousy. 113

wonderful prize should be fixed, and the doll
herself put up for sale. Money-jugs were
broken, and " savings banks " emptied, that the
contents might be counted over and over to
ascertain if there was any possibility that they
might reach the sum which would probably be
required ; allowances were saved up in the
same hope.

The only trouble about it was, that as Maggie
Bradford said, " only one could have the doll,
and so all the rest were doomed to disappoint-
ment, which made it a case in which it would
be well if one man's meat were every other
man's poison."

Jessie and her grandfather were cared for in
the meanwhile. Miss Ashton had interested
several of her friends in them ; the children
had done the same with their parents ; and Mr.
Bradford, Mr. Norris, and one or two other
gentlemen had been to see old Malcolm, and
finding that there was little or no probability
of his cure while he remained in the cold,
damp shanty, where he had been living for the

8

H4 Jessie's Parrot.

last few months, had furnished him with more
comfortable lodging.

Jessie's wares were also finding a good
market, and every week she came down into
the city with a number. Some of these she
sold to such purchasers as came in her way,
and whatever were left over she carried to
Miss Ash ton, and put in her hands for the
fair.

She was also making some particularly choice
articles which she kept back for exhibition and
sale on that occasion ; and among them were
half a dozen boxes of straw and bright-colored
ribbons, with an initial letter woven in beads
upon the top of each. There had been but
four of them at first, bearing respectively an
M, a B, a G, and a D, standing for Maggie,
Bessie, Grade, and Dora; for Jessie looked
upon these as her first friends, because they had
first become interested in her story. But Bessie
having mentioned that Belle and Lily were
" just like ourselves, and my sister and I would
be pleased to buy boxes for them at the fair,"

Jealousy. 115

Jessie completed two more with an L for Lily,
and a B for Belle. There was a delightful
amount of mystery respecting these boxes, for
each one of the six knew what had been done
for the other five ; Jessie telling her in con-
fidence, and leaving her with the suspicion that
the same pleasure was in store for her. Not
on any account would any one of them have
spoken of this suspicion ; oh dear, no ! but was
quite prepared to be very much surprised if a
box bearing her initial should turn up at the
fair.

Maggie and Bessie owned a pretty little pony,
the gift of their Uncle Ruthven ; at least Fred
said it was " Uncle Ruthven' s present," but
Mr. Stanton said it was Fred's. For, having
offered Fred the choice of a present for himself
as a reward for the pains he had taken to break
himself of some troublesome faults, the gener-
ous brother asked for a pony for his little sis-
ters. He and his brother Harry each owned
one, and he wished Maggie and Bessie to enjoy
the same pleasure. So Uncle Ruthven had

Ii6 Jessie's Parrot.

bought the pony and equipped him, but he de-
clared it was Fred's gift to the little girls, and
I think he was about right.

However that was, the pony had given no
small amount of pleasure, and this was still
farther increased when Belle's papa gave her
one.

It was a pretty sight to see two of the little
girls on these ponies, escorted by Harry and
Fred, and the whole party under the care of
one of the papas, or Uncle Ruthven, or some-
times of old James, the coachman. Belle and
Bessie rode as yet with a leading string to the
pony's rein, but Maggie had grown to be a fear-
less little rider, and had no idea of being led.
Lily would have been welcome to a ride now
and then if she had chosen, but " the one
thing in the world" which Lily feared was a
horse, and she declined the most pressing offers
of this nature.

Now that the days were becoming so mild
and pleasant, these rides took place quite fre-
quently, and they were hardly looked forward

Jealousy.

to more eagerly by the children than they were
by old Malcolm and Jessie, who delighted to
see the little girls on horseback, and were
always on the watch to meet them and receive-
a kind word.

" I know who I think will have the best piece
of work," said Lily, one day after school, when
the little girls were discussing the arrangements
for the fair as they prepared to go home.

" Who ? " asked Gracie quickly. " Maggie,
I s'pose. You always think Maggie and Bessie
do every thing better than anybody else."

" Well, and so they do," answered Lily, un-
willing to allow that her favorite playmates
could be outdone in any thing by another, —
" so they do ; but it's not Maggie this time."

" Who then ? " asked Dora.

" Nellie Ransom," said Lily. " Have you
seen her mat ? "

No : none of the others had seen Nellie's
mat ; but now curiosity was all on tiptoe, and a
general desire to see her work took possession
of the class.

Ii8 Jessie's Parrot.

" Bring all your works to-morrow, and let's
Bee which is the best," said Lily.

" Grade's is, I know," said Hattie.

" If you have not seen the others you don't
know," said Lily.

Hattie whispered something to Gracie and
laughed ; but Gracie still wore the displeased
look she had put on when Lily declared Nellie's
work must be the best.

For, during the whole of the last year, Gracie
had been nourishing an intense and bitter jeal-
ousy of Nellie Ransom. As has been said
before, Nellie was by no means as quick and
brilliant a child as Gracie, but she was more
persevering and industrious, and so made up
for the lack of natural talent. She was the
only child in the school who could keep up with
Gracie in several studies, such as composition
and arithmetic ; and in all they learned these
two generally stood in advance of the rest.

And to outstrip Nellie, to be always the
first, the very first was Gracie's great ambition.
She believed herself to be by far the wiser and

Jealousy. 119

cleverer of the two, but she was anxious that
every one else should acknowledge it also.

A year ago, when Miss Ashton's uncle had
offered a prize for the best composition, — the
occasion to which Mrs. Howard had referred
when warning her little daughter against jeal-
ousy of Maggie Bradford, — the chances had
seemed to lie between Maggie and herself ; but
to the astonishment of every one, Nellie's com-
position had proved the most deserving, and
taken the much-coveted prize.

Since that time Gracie's wish to excel Nellie
in all things had known no bounds, and it is
really to be feared that she was rejoiced at
heart when her painstaking and industrious
little schoolmate missed in her lessons, or
failed in any work she undertook.

So now the fear that Nellie's mat should
prove to be more neatly worked than her own
took complete possession of her, for it was
not only the desire to be first, but the desire to
outstrip Nellie especially, that filled her heart
and made her envious and jealous.

I2O Jessie's Parrot.

It was agreed that Nellie, Gracie, and Dora
should each bring her mat to school the next
morning, so as to compare their work and see
which was likely to bring the highest price.

Accordingly this was done, and the children
all gathered early, anxious to decide on the
respective merits of the three pieces of em-
broidery.

All were well done, neatly and evenly
worked ; but there could be no doubt of it,
even to Gracie's unwilling eyes, — Nellie Ran-
som's was somewhat the best. It was really
astonishing for a child of her age. She was
naturally handy with her needle, and had
taken so much pains with this mat that it
would have done credit to a much older person.
The simple pattern was straight and even, and
the stitches of the filling in lay in neat, regu-
lar rows, the worsted smooth and unfrayed,
and not a speck or spot of any description to
be seen upon the whole piece.

Gracie's was very nearly a match for it;
indeed, had the two pieces been looked at

Jealousy. 1 21

separately it might have seemed that there was
nothing to choose between them ; but laid side
by side and closely compared, Nellie's would
certainly bear off the palm.

" Why, Nellie," said Dora, whose own work
was by no means despicable, " how beautifully
you have done it. I don't believe a grown-up
lady could have worked it better. I know
Mrs. Howard will say it's the best."

Quiet Nellie colored and dimpled with pleas-
ure. Praise was pleasant to her, as it is to
all ; but, although she would have been glad to
have her work pronounced the best, it was
with no overwhelming desire to outdo her com-
panions. Nellie did her very best, but when
another did better, she could be content with
the feeling that it was not her own fault
that she was excelled, and was ready to
sympathize with her more fortunate class-
mate.

" That will be priced ten dollars for certain
and positive," said Lily, holding up the mat
and regarding it with admiration. " It is

122 Jessie's Parrot.

lovely, Nellie. They are all very nice, 'spe-
cially Gracie's, but yours is the best."

" It's not a bit better than Gracie's," said
Hattie.

" Don't you encourage Gracie more than she
deserves," said Lily admonishingly. " She's
pretty nice, but don't you puff her up too much."

" I know something about you," said Hattie
teasingly.

" Well, know away," answered Lily scorn-
fully. "You're always knowing something
about somebody ; and you want me to ask you
what you know about me ; but I don't want
to know, and I'm not going to have you
say some of the girls said hateful things of me.
Besides — oh ! I forgot ; I b'lieve I was rather
anti-politing ; " and Lily, who was about to say
that Hattie always made things seem worse
than they were, put a check upon her saucy
little tongue and turned once more to Nellie.

One might have thought that Lily had
worked the mat herself to see her pride and
satisfaction in it.

Jealousy. 123

" Dora has done more on hers than Nellie
and Grade," said Belle. " Their two are
pretty nearly the same. Let's see ; Gracie
has only two more rows done than Nellie ; no,
Nellie has two more done than Gracie — oh ! —
why — this is Grade's, isn't it ? I can hardly
tell them apart, they are both so very nice."

For, handing the mats about from one to
another, the same mistake occurred more than
once, Gracie's being taken for Nellie's or Nel-
lie's for Gracie's, and they had to be held side
by side before they could be distinguished.
The children laughed and thought this rather
funny ; and it gave Gracie some hope that hers
might be judged to be the best, after all. She
would take more pains than ever.

The thought of the mats and of outdoing
Nellie was so busy with her that she did not
give her usual attention to her lessons that
morning ; and, as the consequence, lost her
place in the spelling-class, and was in a peev-
ish humor for the rest of the day.

Fresh cause of displeasure befell her at the

124 Jessie's Parrot.

close of school, when Miss Ashton said she
thought it as well that the May Queen should
be chosen soon.

" Oh ! we want Maggie, of course," said
Lily.

" Maggie again ? '' said Miss Ashton, smil-
ing.

" Yes'm," said Belle. " Maggie is used to it,
and she makes the prettiest queen, so we'd
rather have her ; wouldn't we, girls ? "

There was a general murmur of assent, save
from two voices.

" Why don't we make some one else May
Queen this year ? " asked Hattie. " We might
have Grade."

" Hattie," said Lily, endeavoring to make her
voice of reproof one of extreme mildness, " as
you have not been so very long in the school, it
would be better if you let the old inhabitants
be the judges."

" Well, anyhow, I don't see why Maggie
always has to be May Queen, and when she don't
go to the school either," said Gracie pouting,

Jealousy. 125

and leaning back against her desk with a dis-
contented air, till, catching Miss Ashton's eye
fixed sadly and reproachfully upon her, she
hung her head and looked ashamed.

" Be-cause," said Lily with emphasis, " she 's
the prettiest child of our acquaintance. Not
all the prettiness of all the rest of us make
up one-half Maggie's prettiness, and she's not
one bit vain or stuck-up about it either ; and if
she and Bessie don't just belong to the school,
they belong to us, and so it's just the same.
Whoever wants Maggie, hold up their hand."

Up went every hand at once, save those of
Gracie and Hattie, and presently Gracie's fol-
lowed the example of the others, though half
unwillingly.

" Now," said Lily triumphantly, " that's
voted, and for ever after let him hold his peace."

The last allusion was perhaps not exactly
clear either to Lily or her hearers ; but it was
thought extremely fine, and as having clinched
the matter without farther argument. Miss
Ashton laughed, and asked if Lily and Belle

126 Jessie's Parrot.

would undertake to let Maggie know that she
was elected May Queen, which they readily
promised to do.

But the next morning these two little friends
returned to school, and told their astonished
and disappointed classmates that Maggie posi-
tively refused to be May Queen. Why they
could not say, but all their persuasions had
proved of no avail. Maggie was not to be
" coaxed," and would give no reason for her
refusal, though she had " seemed to feel awfully
about it," Lily said, and had " cried about it "
before they left. Bessie had been as much
mystified as they were, and even Maggie's
mamma, when appealed to, said that she knew
of no reason why Maggie should decline the
offered honor. Maggie, however, had said she
would " tell mamma and Bessie," but she could
tell no one else.

Miss Ashton, when informed of Maggie's re-
fusal, said that she would call on her and see
what could be done, and until then the matter
might rest.

Jealousy. 127

"Hattie," said Gracie, drawing her "inti-
mate friend " into a corner during recess, " did
you tell Maggie Bradford what I said about her
being Queen twice ? "

" Well — no," said Hattie, hesitating at first,
but then uttering her denial boldly as she saw
the frown gathering upon Gracie's brow.

Gracie looked at her as if she only half be-
lieved her, for she was learning to doubt Hat-
tie's word, and although she was greedy of
her flattery, she could not help feeling that her
chosen friend was not sincere.

" You know you've told a good many things
I did not mean you to," said Gracie, " and I
wouldn't like not to be friends with Maggie, or
to let her think I'm hateful."

And Hattie declared over and over again
tha,t she had never said one word to Maggie on
the subject.

" I do feel badly about it," said Gracie re-
morsefully. " I wish I had never said I thought
Maggie ought not to be May Queen. Maggie's
been my friend this ever so long, since I was

128 Jessie's Parrot.

quite little ; and I believe I had rather the girls
chose her. I've a good mind to write her a
note, and tell her I wish she would be Queen."

All the other children had left the school-
room to go down and play on the piazza, and
Gracie and Hattie were alone together.

" I wouldn't," said Hattie ; " you are the one
who ought to be May Queen, 'cause you are the
smartest child in the school."

Gracie believed this, and thought Hattie gave
her no more than her due ; still, although she
liked to hear Hattie say it, the compliment did
not turn her from her purpose.

VII.
A MISFORTUNE.

|S the two children talked, Gracie had
been putting a few stitches in her
mat.

"I b'lieve I'll do it," she said. "I'll tell
Maggie we all want her to be May Queen."

" Then she'll know you've said something
about it," said Hattie anxiously, feeling that
this proceeding was likely to bring her into
trouble.

"No, she needn't," said Gracie ; " perhaps
she does think I don't want her to be, 'cause
at Christmas she knew I was mad about it."

" Are you going to beg her pardon ? " asked
Hattie.

130 Jessie's Parrot.

" No," said Gracie, with one of her scornful
tosses of her head. " 1 think I see myself doing
such a thing ! But I can write her a little note,
and tell her we are all sorry because she won't
be May Queen, and beg her to change her mind.
I might do as much as that for Maggie," she
added to herself.

Hattie tried to dissuade her no longer, and
Gracie laid the mat down upon her desk,
opened the lid, and took out a slip of paper and
a pen. She dipped the pen in the ink, wrote,
" My dear Maggie," at the top of the sheet,
and then paused, biting the top of her pen.

" I can't think what to say, or how to begin
it," she said. " My dear Maggie, I am very
sorry — no. I had better say we — we are
very sorry that you — that you — oh, pshaw!
I've a great mind not to do it" — here she
dipped her pen in the ink again, and so care-
lessly that it came forth quite too full. " Oh,
bother!" she exclaimed with increasing ill-
humor; "look at this hateful pen ; " and, for-
getting the precious piece of work which lay so

A Misfortune. 131

near at hand, she gave a careless fillip to the
pen which spattered forth the ink.

Grade gave another impatient exclamation,
and pushed away the paper, saying, —

" I shan't do it ; if Maggie likes to be so
foolish about nothing, she just can ; " but she
did not see the extent of the mischief she had
done till Hattie said in a tone of great dis-
may, —

"0 Gracie! just see what you've done!"

And there upon her beautiful mat was a
great spot of ink.

Gracie gave a horrified little cry, and, snatch-
ing up the mat, thoughtlessly sopped up the
spot with her handkerchief, thereby spreading
and smearing it till it grew to the size of a
two-cent piece, and left an ugly blotch on the
bright blue worsted.

" What shall 1 do ? oh ! what shall I do ?
It's spoiled ; it's quite spoiled ! " she said des-
pairingly.

" I don't believe it is ; maybe it can be taken
out," said Hattie, though she was almost as

132 Jessie's Parrot.

much startled as her little companion. " I'll
bring some water, and we'll try to take it
out."

" No, no," said Gracie ; " I wish I had not
touched it at all. We'll only make it worse ;
and I'll ask mamma to try as soon as I go
home. Oh, dear, dear, dear ! what shall I do ?
Grandmamma will surely say Nellie's is the
best now. That hateful girl ! "

'.' It's a great shame if she does," said Hat-
tie. " Nellie is always trying to get ahead of
you ; and she don't deserve it, and I don't
think your grandmamma is fair to you. She
ought to think her own grandchild's work is
the best."

" I suppose Nellie will just be glad when she
sees what has happened to me," said Gracie,
whose jealous eyes could now see nothing that
was good or fair in Nellie's conduct.

Innocent, kind-hearted Nellie, who would not
willingly harbor an unkind or unjust thought
of another !

" I shan't let her see it," she continued,

A Misfortune. 133

hastily rolling up the mat and putting it into
her desk, as she heard the other children com-
ing. " Don't say a word about it, Hattie, not to
any one."

Hattie promised, really grieving herself for
Grade's misfortune, for she truly loved her,
and was anxious that she should be the first.

This was to be a black day for Gracie ; but
all through her own jealousy and pride.

Her mind was so taken up with the remem-
brance of the defaced mat that she could not
keep her thoughts upon her lessons ; and,
although she had known her history very well,
her attention wandered so much that she
answered incorrectly more than once.

Seeing, however, that something had dis-
turbed her, Miss Ashton made allowances, and
gave her one or two opportunities to correct
herself and bring her thoughts back to the
task before her.

But it was all in vain ; Gracie had already lost
her place in the spelling-class, and gone down
below Dora Johnson and Laura Middleton ;

134 Jessie's Parrot.

and now the fear of a fresh mortification, and of
giving Nellie her place at the head of the his-
tory class added to her confusion, and she
floundered more and more hopelessly. Nellie
begged too that she might have still another
chance, when at last Miss Ashton passed the
question to her ; but again Gracie failed and
was obliged to yield her place.

Angry, mortified, and jealous, Gracie showed
such determined ill-temper towards her gen-
erous little classmate, that Miss Ashton was
obliged to reprove her, but without effect.

Again she called Gracie to order, and this
time more severely.

The angry and wilful child hesitated for
one moment, then pride and passion burst all
bounds, and she answered Miss Ashton with
such insolence, such ungoverned and unjusti-
fiable impertinence that the whole class stood
aghast.

There was a moment's perfect stillness.
Miss Ashton turned very pale, and laying her
book down upon the table, covered her face

A Misfortune. 135

with her hand, while the children looked from
her to Gracie and back again, in utter dismay
and astonishment.

Then the stillness was broken by a piteous,
" Oh, dear ! " from poor little Belle, who fin-
ished with a burst of tears, and her example
was followed by more than one of the others.

Miss Ashton raised her head.

" Go into the cloak-room, Grace," she said
quietly.

Gracie was herself frightened at what she had
done ; but her pride and temper were still far-
ther roused by the shocked and disapproving
looks of her schoolmates, and she stood for an
instant with determined stubbornness, while
the words, " I won't," formed themselves upon
her lips.

But they were not uttered, for there was
something in Miss Ashton's face which checked
her ; something which not one of the little flock
had ever seen before ; and when the lady
repeated her words in the same calm tone, —

" Go into the cloak-room," Gracie turned
away and obeyed.

136 Jessie's Parrot.

It was with head held high, and scornful
look, however, that she passed out, although
bitter shame and regret were burning in the
poor, foolish little heart. But she called up all
her pride and jealousy to stifle the better feeling
which urged her to run to her teacher, and, in
the face of the whole school, confess her fault,
and beg Miss Ashton's pardon for the insulting
words she had spoken.

" What will she do, I wonder," she said to
herself ; " will she tell mamma ? What will
mamma say, and papa too ? " and, as the re-
collection of her parents' oft-repeated warnings
against the pride and vanity which were her be-
setting sins came back to her mind, she could
not but feel that this was the consequence of
allowing them to gain such a hold upon her.

She felt it, for conscience would make itself
heard ; but she would not acknowledge it even
to herself, and drowned the reproving whisper
with such thoughts as, —

" Well, then, why is Miss Ashton so unjust ?
She is always trying to make me miss and

A Misfortune. 137

lose my place. She is always glad when any
one goes above me. She never praises me as
much as I deserve ; " and such unjust and un-
true accusations.

It might be that Miss Ashton did not always
bestow upon Gracie all the praise she would have
given to another for a perfect lesson or good
composition, for s.he did not think much praise
good for her, as it only seemed to minister to
Gracie's over-weening vanity. But only eyes
that were wilfully blind and suspicious could
find the slightest injustice or unkindness in her
treatment of any one of her little scholars, and
her gentleness and patience might have won
gratitude from the most stubborn young heart.

But Gracie would not listen to the prompt-
ings of her better spirit ; and the recollection
of the dismayed and averted looks of her
schoolmates added fuel to the flame of her
angry pride. Even the ever admiring Hattie
had looked shocked at her outburst.

" I don't care," she said again to herself.
" It's only 'cause they know I am so much

138 Jessie's Parrot.

cleverer than any of them, and they are jeal-
ous of me. That hateful Nellie ! She was so
proud to go above me."

Wretched and unhappy, she spent the time
in her solitude till the close of school, when
the other children came into the cloak-room
for their hats.

No one said a word to her, for they had been
forbidden to do so ; and if they had occasion to
speak to one another they did so in whispers,
as if something terrible had happened, and a
great awe had fallen upon them. She sat in a
corner, sullen and defiant, trying to put on an
appearance of the utmost indifference, but suc-
ceeding very poorly. She even tried to hum
a tune, but something rose in her throat and
choked her. She scarcely knew what to do ;
whether or no to rise, and take her hat, and go
down as usual to find the nurse, who was prob-
ably waiting for her below ; and while she sat
hesitating, one and another of her young com-
panions passed out, as if glad to hurry from
her presence, and she was left once more alone.

A Misforttme. 139

She had just taken down her hat, when Miss
Ashton came in, and, handing her a note, said
gravely, —

" Give this to your mother, Gracie," and
left her again.

Ashamed and alarmed at the thought of
what might follow when she should reach
home, but with her pride and anger not one
whit abated, Gracie went slowly on, giving
short and snappish answers to the inquiries of
her nurse, who plainly saw that something was
wrong.

But she dared not face her mother when she
should hear of her misconduct ; and when they
entered the house, she thrust the note into the
hand of the maid, bidding her give it to Mrs.
Howard, and ran quickly up to her own little
room.

There she stayed, wondering and waiting.
Five, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, half an hour
passed away, and still her mamma did not
come.

Was it possible ? could she really hope that

140 Jessie's Parrot.

the note had not been one of complaint of her
conduct ?

No, that could never be ; there was the bell
for the children's early dinner. Well, she
would go down and act as if nothing had
happened. But could she with this uncertainty
of how much or how little mamma knew ?

But there was mamma's step, and now Mrs.
Howard entered the room. One half glance
at her face and Gracie's eyes fell. It was
enough to show her that her mother knew all.

" Mean old thing ! " she said to herself,
meaning Miss Ashton. " She's gone and told,
and now I s'pose I'll be punished."

" Grade," said her mother, " I suppose you
scarcely need to be told what is in this note
which Miss Ashton has sent me."

Grade stood with head erect, pouting lip,
and defiant eyes, idly tossing back and forth
the tassel of the window curtain with as much
indifference as she could assume.

" Has it come to this, my child," continued
Mrs. Howard sorrowfully, " that you have

A Misfortune. 141

allowed conceit and self-will to gain such a
hold upon you, that you could wilfully and
deliberately insult your teacher ? I have been
sure that you would fall into trouble, Gracie,
for I knew that such foolish pride must sooner
or later have a fall, but I could not have
believed that you would be guilty of this.
"What did you say to Miss Ashton?"

" I don't care," said Gracie passionately,
without directly answering her mother's ques-
tion. " It was all true, every word of it. She's
as hateful as she can be, and unjust and
mean ; " and Gracie went on, pouring forth a
torrent of invective and reproach against Miss
Ashton and Nellie Ransom, without paying the
slightest heed to her mother's commands to be
silent. It was the long pent-up feeling of
jealousy and ill-will and pride, that she had
been nourishing for months past, and which
now burst all bounds and swept every thing
before it.

Respect, and even obedience towards her
mother, reason, justice, and truth itself were

142 Jessie's Parrot.

totally lost sight of, as she poured forth accu-
sation after accusation against the offenders,
and upheld her own conduct in all she had done
and said.

" And you have said all this to Miss Ashton,
perhaps ? " said her mother sternly, when the
angry child at last came to a pause.

" It is true enough if I did," muttered Gracie
again, though her passion was by this time be-
ginning to cool down in a measure. " I'm
sure I wish I never went to her hateful old
school."

" It is more than probable that Miss Ashton
wishes so now ; but I shall leave you to
think over what you have said to me and to
Miss Ashton, and to find out how much of it
is true. One thing Miss Ashton desires, — that
you do not return to her school till you are
ready to acknowledge your fault, and to apolo-
gize for your impertinence. And until this
is the case, you must remain in your room.
Your meals will be sent to you, and I shall not
allow your brothers and sisters to have any in-

A Misfortune. 143

tercourse with you till you are ready to make
such amends as you can. You may send for
me when you have any thing to say to me. Oh,
Gracie, Gracie ! "

With which words, spoken in a sad, despond-
ent tone, Mrs. Howard went away, closing
the door upon her stubborn, rebellious little
daughter.

Gracie stood where her mother had left her,
not one whit softened or humbled ; for now her
angry pride began to accuse her mother also of
injustice and partiality and unkindness.

" Everybody in the world takes part against
me," she said to herself ; " but I don't care.
Indeed, I won't beg Miss Ashton's pardon, not
if I stay here a year. Mamma makes such a
fuss about her being so kind and patient and
all that. She's paid for teaching me, so it's
nothing so wonderfully good. I hope I never
will go back to the school where that hateful
Nellie is."

Soon the door opened, and the nurse ap-
peared, bearing a tray on which was Gracie's

144 Jessie's Parrot.

dinner. She set it upon a table, placed a chair,
and went away without a word to her.

" I don't care," said Gracie once more, " no
one need talk to me if they don't want to.
I'm just as good as they are, and I'd just as
lief stay here by myself."

She sat down before the dinner-tray, trying
to believe that she would "just as lief eat
her dinner alone ; " but she found it was not so
agreeable after all. She wondered what they
were doing downstairs ; if the children were
chattering as merrily as usual, or if her absence
made any difference in the family enjoyment.
She had little appetite, as may be supposed,
and left the nicely served meal scarcely
touched.

But it must not be thought that she had any
idea of yielding or acknowledging herself in
the wrong. By and by she heard her brothers
and sisters coming upstairs, then their voices
in the nursery as they prattled to one another ;
and she knew that they were being made ready
for their afternoon airing. Then tiny feet pat-

A Misfortune. 145

tered along the hall, and little May's voice
sounded through her closed door, —

" Am oo dood now, Dacie ? We'm doin out,
Dacie ; am oo most dood ? Pease don't be
naughty did, Dacie," and the soft little hand
tapped upon the panel as the baby voice pleaded.

" Come away, darling. Gracie may come
out when she is good and says she is sorry,"
said mamma's voice ; and Gracie knew that her
mother had led the little pet away.

But all this only seemed to harden her.
May was such a darling, the sweetest and
dearest of all her brothers and sisters, Gracie
thought ; and, although the sweet, coaxing voice
had touched her, she only found in her mother's
interference fresh cause of offence.

" Mamma tries to set even May against me,
and I s'pose she's been telling all the children
what I did," she thought ; " but I don't care. 1
believe they'll grow tired of having me away
before I am tired of staying here. There's
plenty for me to do. I can read, and I'll work
on my mat."

10

146 Jessies Parrot.

But here it suddenly flashed upon her that
she had not brought her mat home with her.
Being sent away in disgrace and not returning
to the school-room before leaving, she had quite
forgotten it, and it still lay there in her desk.
And that stain upon it, too, which she had
intended to ask her mother to take out if pos-
sible. Mamma would not feel like doing it for
her now, and she could ask no favors from her.
Not unless she repented and — and — apolo-
gized to Miss Ash ton. And this last she
would not do ; no, never, never.

She heard the children going downstairs,
stood at the window and watched them get into
the carriage and drive away with mamma, and
began to wish that- she were there too. And
such a lovely afternoon, it was too bad to be
shut up here. But still she never blamed her-
self for her imprisonment ; no, mamma, Miss
Ash ton, Nellie, any one was in the wrong, but
not her own wilful, stubborn little self. What
was to be the end of this she did not know,
but Gracie had no thought of yielding.

A Misfortune. 147

She whiled away the afternoon as she best
could ; but every thing seemed to have lost its
zest. Her prettiest story-books had no inter-
est ; her dolls were " stupid " and poor com-
pany ; even her stock of pretty materials for
articles for the fair seemed less attractive
than usual as she turned them over, and her
work " would not go."

This was the first time in her life that Gracie
had ever been punished in such a manner ; and
apart from the disgrace, which she was deter-
mined not to feel, she was a child who was
fond of society and did not know how to bear
being deprived of it.

VIII.

"THE SPIDER AND THE FLY."

|F Mrs. Howard had perhaps hoped
that little May's pleading would
have any softening effect on Gracie.
she was mistaken. The message she had
expected to receive on reaching home did not
come to her. Nor did she hear a word from
Gracie through the evening until the little
girl's bed-time came. Then she sent word
that the hour had come, still hoping and
believing that the stubborn heart must relent,
and that Gracie would feel that she could not
go to rest unforgiven and without her moth-
er's good-night kiss. But she was mistaken.
Gracie received the message in sullen silence,

" The Spider and the Fly" 149

but obeyed and went to bed without one word
of sorrow or repentance.

It was the same in the morning. Gracie
rose and was dressed ; her breakfast was
brought and eaten in solitude, as her dinner
and supper had been yesterday ; and still the
nurse who waited upon her passed in and out,
as it was necessary, and brought no word to
comfort the sorrowing heart of her mother.

School-time came, and Gracie knew that

the children in her class would believe that

•
her absence was caused by her misconduct of

the previous day, as was indeed too true ; but
this only made her feel more and more proud
and obstinate.

The long, weary morning wore away, the
solitary dinner was once more over, and again
the house seemed so still and lonely, for mam-
ma and the children had gone out again,
and the servants were all downstairs.

By and by Gracie heard a light, quick foot
running up the stairs and coming towards her
own door. The latch was turned and the

150 Jessie's Parrot.

door softly opened, — Mrs. Howard had not
locked her in, for she believed that she could
trust Gracie and that she would not disobey
so far as to leave the room she had been bid-
den to keep, — and Hattie's face peeped in.

Gracie started, partly in astonishment,
partly in dismay ; for what must she do now ?
Mamma would not have allowed her to see
Hattie, she knew, if she had been at home ;
and must she send her away ? She was so
glad to see some one, to be able to speak to
some one.

Hattie came in, closed the door behind her,
and, running to Gracie, put her arm about her
neck and kissed her, saying with much energy, —

"It's too mean, Gracie ! it's the meanest
thing I ever knew ! It's a great shame ! "

There could be no doubt of her sympathy,
of her belief that Gracie was in the right, or
at least that she was not so very much to
blame, and was undeservedly punished. For
Hattie was really and truly very fond of
Gracie, admired her and considered her very

" The Spider and the Fly." 151

clever ; and, although even she had been dis-
mayed by Gracic's outburst yesterday, she was
now disposed to treat it lightly, and to say that
Gracie had been provoked. There was another
reason, too, which induced Hattie to take part
against Nellie Ransom, and to wish to put her
in the wrong.

" 0 Hattie ! " said Gracie, " how did you
come up here ? Mamma wouldn't allow it, I
know."

Hattie laughed triumphantly.

" I knew that," she said, " for I came to the
door a little while ago and the servant said
you were up in your room, but he thought you
could not see any one to-day, and he said every
one else was out. But I said I had a message
from school for you, and that you must have it
this afternoon. So of course he thought it
was from Miss Ashton, as I meant he should,
and he let me come up."

" Mamma will be displeased," said Gracie ;
" you ought not, Hattie. I'm very glad to see
you, but I must not let you stay."

152 Jessie's Parrot.

" I'll only stay a few minutes," said Hattie,
taking the seat which Gracie had not ventured
to offer her. " I've something perfectly splen-
did to tell you."

" Was everybody saying ugly things about
me to-day, and talking as if I was as wicked
as a murderer ? " asked Gracie, more interested
in the opinion others might hold of her than
in Hattie's promised news.

There had really been very little said on the
matter ; the offence was too serious and too
shocking to Gracie's young companions to
make it an agreeable subject of conversation ;
and, although there had been some wondering as
to whether Gracie would ever be allowed to
return to the school, but few unkind remarks
had been made, and these were more in sorrow
than in censure.

And Hattie was too full of her errand and
of the fear of being found on forbidden
ground to make as good a story of that little as
she might have chosen to do at another time.
" Well, no, not much," she answered. " I

" The Slider and the Fly" 153

suppose that old Nellie, hateful thing, was glad
enough."

" Did she say so ? " questioned Gracie.

" No," said Hattie ; " she did not speak about
it. Gracie, did Miss Ashton send word to
your mother and ask her to punish you ? "

" She wrote to her about it, and I suppose
mamma punished me of her own accord,"
answered Gracie.

" HOAV long is she going to keep you up
here ? " asked Hattie.

" Till — till — I beg Miss Ashton's pardon,"
said Gracie, her angry pride rising again at
the thought ; " and I never will do it, no, never,
not if I stay here a year ! "

" But the fair," said Hattie ; " you know the
fair is in two weeks, and if you don't come out
before that you'll miss all the fun."

Now, apart from the interest which all the
little girls took in the fair, Gracie had a strong
desire, as usual, to play some very prominent
part therein. As we know, she had wished to
be Queen, and had been vexed because Maggie

154 Jessie's Parrot.

Bradford had been chosen again ; but, although
she could not have this coveted honor, she still
hoped and intended to make herself very con-
spicuous there.

It was true that the thought of the fair and
all that concerned it had been much in her
mind, even during her imprisonment ; but it had
not occurred to her that her resolution of never,
never apologizing to Miss Ashton,"even if she
stayed shut up for a whole year," would scarcely
agree with her appearance at the festival.

She sat as if confounded at Hattie's words.

" I'd do it if I were you," continued the
latter, seeing the effect she had produced.
" It's a great shame that you have to, but then
you will have to, you know ; and I'd do it and
have it over. If you're going to fret and fuss
here about it, you'll feel a great deal worse at
last when you come to do it."

Hattie's advice on* this subject was cer-
tainly good in itself, though she did not put
it before Gracie in a right light.

" Miss Ashton is so unjust and so awfully

" The Slider and the Fly" 155

partial to Nellie," pouted Gracie, although her
resolution was beginning to waver a little for
the first time.

" I know it," said Hattie ; " but she can't
make other people think Nellie is the smartest
child. Every one knows you are, Gracie, even
if they won't say so."

"•I can learn three lessons while Nellie
learns one ; but Miss Ashton is always praising
her and never praises me," was Gracie'a
answer.

" I know it," said Hattie again. " Nellie
— oh, I can't bear that girl! — sets up to be
so wonderfully good, and Miss Ashton always
believes whatever she says, and makes such
a fuss about her; but you can just say you
beg Miss Ashton's pardon, and have it over.
The rest of the class will have every thing
their own way if you don't come out pretty
soon and have your word about the fair ; and
there's your mat, too, you know, Gracie."

" I forgot my mat yesterday when I came
away," said Gracie. " I wish you had known

156 Jessie's Parrot.

it and then you could have brought it to
me"

Again Hattiegave a triumphant little laugh,
and putting her hand into her pocket drew
out the mat, — that is, a mat.

Gracie seized it eagerly, gave Hattie a kiss,
saying, " Oh, you dear thing ! I'm so glad."

Then she looked for the stain, but there was
no stain to be seen.

" Where's that ink-spot ? Oh, Hattie, did
you take it out ? There's not a sign of it."

" No," said Hattie, " I did not take it out."

" Why ! " exclaimed Gracie, turning the
mat over. " W"hy, it is — it is — it's not mine.
It's Nellie's mat!"

" I'm going to tell you," said Hattie. " This
morning Miss Ashton handed me your history,
which I believe you left in the cloak-room yes-
terday, and told me to put it in your desk. So
when I opened the desk, the first thing I saw
was the mat, and I knew you must have for-
gotten it. Nellie, the mean thing, she had
brought her mat to school to-day again, and

" The Spider and the Fly" 157

said she was going to work on it in recess ;
but when recess came the other children
coaxed her to go out in the garden 'cause it
was so pleasant, and she went. So while they
were all down there, I saw the way to play
Miss Nellie a good trick and to help you, dear ;
and I ran up to the school-room, changed Nel-
lie's mat for yours, put hers back just as
she had left it, and she'll never know the dif-
ference and think that somehow that ink-spot
has come on her mat. And do you know,
Gracie, it was the most fortunate thing that
Nellie had just worked those two rows more
that made her work even with yours ; so she
never can know. You remember yesterday we
could scarcely tell them apart, and now they
look almost exactly alike."

" But what then ? " said Gracie, almost
frightened at the thought of Hattie's probable
meaning.

" Why, don't you see ? " said Hattie, who
told her story as if she thought she had done
something very clever and praiseworthy ; " you

158 Jessie's Parrot.

can just finish this mat as if it was your own,
and need not bother yourself about the ink-
stain."

" But — but — Hattie — this one is Nellie's,'*
said Gracie in a shocked voice.

" What of that ? we'll keep the secret, and
no one will ever know but us two," said Hattie.
" Nellie has the other one, and that's good
enough for her. She has no right to expect
the most money from your grandmamma.
Take a great deal of pains with this, Gracie,
and make the work look just like Nellie's."

" But, I can't, I can't," said Gracie. " It
seems to me almost like — stealing."

" Stealing ! " repeated Hattie. " I'd like to
know who has been stealing ! I only changed
the mats, and you have the best right to the
nicest one. I was not going to have Nellie get
every thing away from you. She just thinks
she's going to make herself the head of the
school and beat you in every thing."

Now as I have said, and as you will readily
believe, there was more at the bottom of Hat-

" The Spider and the Fly" 159

tie's desire to thwart Nellie than her wish to
see Gracie stand first, although she was really
very fond of the latter, and it was this.

It had so happened that Nellie's rather
blunt truthfulness and clear-sighted honesty
had more than once detected Hattie's want of
straightforwardness, and even defeated some
object she had in view, and for this Hattie bore
her a grudge. She was particularly displeased
with her at the present time because of a repri-
mand from Miss Ashton which she chose to
consider she owed to Nellie.

Coming to school rather early one morning,
a day or two since, Nellie found Belle Powers
and Hattie there before her.

Belle sat upon the lower step of the upper
flight of stairs, in a state of utter woe, with the
saddest of little faces, and wiping the tears
from her eyes. Hattie, grasping the banister
with one hand, was swinging herself back and
forth, saying, " I wouldn't care if I were you.
Tis nothing to cry about ; " but she looked
ashamed and rather caught when, she saw-
Nellie coming up the stairs.

160 Jessies Parrot.

" What is the matter, Belle ? " asked Nellie,
sitting down beside the school pet and darling,
and putting her arm around her neck.

" Fanny Leroy said things about me," sobbed
Belle.

" What things ? " questioned Nellie with a
searching look at Hattie.

" She said I was so bad and spoiled I could
hardly ever be good, even when I wanted to,"
answered Belle piteously ; " and she said Miss
Ashton had to be excusing me all the time for
the naughty things I did in school. And I
loved Fanny, and 1 wouldn't have said such bad
things about her ; and, oh, dear ! I thought she
loved me too. She came to Aunt Margaret's
when I was there the day before she went away,
to say good-bye to Maggie and Bessie and me ;
and she gave us each a nutmeg to remember
her by and to keep for ever an' ever an' ever
for a keepsake, and she kissed me ever so
many times. And all the time she had been
saying bad things about me, and so I'm going
to throw away the nutmeg, 'cause I don't want

" The Spider and the Fly." 161

a keepsake of a girl who made b'lieve she
liked me when she didn't."

" I don't believe it," said Nellie with far
more energy than was usual with her, and still
regarding Hattie with searching looks.

" But Hattie says she did," repeated Belle.

Hattie's saying a thing made it by no means
sure in Nellie's eyes, and although she was not
apt to interfere or meddle where she had no
right to do so, she would not let this pass
without further questioning. She was fond of
the absent Fanny and loved Belle dearly ; and
believing that both were now wronged, she set
herself to right them if possible.

" I don't believe it," she said again.

" Well, you just can believe it," said Hattie
resentfully. " Don't I know what Fanny
said to me ? It's nothing to make such a fuss
about, anyhow.

" Belle has very easily hurt feelings," said

Nellie ; " and besides, it is something to make a

fuss about. And Fanny hardly ever would say

unkind things of other people ; the girls used

11

162 Jessie's Parrot.

to think she was 'most too particular about it
And, Hattie Leroy, I don't believe she evei
said such things about Belle ; anyhow, not ii?
that way."

" She did, too, I tell you," persisted Hattie,,
secure in Fanny's absence, and determined nou
to acknowledge that she had misrepresented
her innocent words, from the mere love of
talking and exaggeration, too ; for she had not
intended to hurt Belle so much, and was now
really sorry to see her so grieved. " She did,
too, I tell you. How do you know what Fanny
said to me ? "

" I don't know what she did say, but I am
sure she never said that," repeated Nellie.

Both little girls had raised their voices
as they contradicted one another, and as
the tones of neither were very amicable by
this time, they drew the attention of Miss
Ashton.

" What is this, my little girls, ; what is the
trouble ? " she asked, coming up the stairs to
them ; then, seeing Belle's still distressed and

" The Spider and the Fly." 163

tear-stained face she inquired, " Belle, darling,
what is wrong ? "

Nellie and Hattie were both rather abashed,
especially the latter, who knew herself to be in
the wrong ; but Belle answered, " Hattie
thinks Fanny Leroy said something, and Nellie
thinks she didn't. I don't know," she added
with a mournful shake of her head, " but
somehow somebody must be rather ' deceitful
and despicably wicked. ' ' Desperately, Belle
meant, and she quoted her words in no spirit
of irreverence, but because she thought them
suited to the, to her, solemnity of the oc-
casion.

Miss Ashton, too, feared that there was
some deceitfulness, or at least exaggeration ;
and seeing that little Belle was in real trouble
she questioned further, and Nellie told her
what Hattie had said.

This was not the first time, by any means,
that Miss Ashton had known mischief to arise
from Hattie's thoughtless way, to call it by no
worse name, of repeating things ; and she re-

164 Jessie's Parrot.

proved her pretty sharply, telling her that such
speeches were not at all like her gentle, ami-
able cousin Fanny, and she could not believe
her guilty of them ; and even had she said
them she, Hattie, had no right to repeat them
and make needless sorrow and trouble for
Belle. Then she soothed Belle and encouraged
her to think that Fanny had not so wronged
her ; and after school she kept Hattie for a few
moments, and spoke to her very seriously but
kindly on her idle, foolish habit of telling tales
with exaggeration and untruthfulness.

But Hattie, in repeating this, had said that
" Miss Ashton kept her in and gave her an
awful scolding just because she had said some-
thing that cry-baby Belle did not like, and
Nellie went and told her and so put her in a
scrape ; " nor did she see that it had been her
own blame in the first instance. And ever
since she had been vexed with Nellie, and this
added strength to her wish to have Gracie out-
strip Nellie. It was not altogether this, let us
do her justice, for she really loved Gracie bet-

" The Spider and the Fly" 165

ter than any other child in the school, and was
anxious to have her win for her own sake.

But we must go back to these two little girls
as they sat together in Gracie's room.

" Yes, so she does," echoed Gracie ; " and I
suppose now Miss Ashton will take away my
conduct marks, and being away to-day, I'll lose
my place in all the classes too. Not that I
could not get ahead of her again easily enough,"
she added contemptuously.

" But she can't have the best mat now,"
said Hattie.

" I don't see how I could do that," said
Gracie. " It is her's, you know, Hattie, and I
can't, really I can't."

" But you'll have to now," said Hattie.
" You know Nellie has found the ink-spot on
the other mat by this time, and there's no way
to give her this one back."

Yes, there was one way, but that did not
enter Hattie's thoughts.

" I couldn't," said Gracie again, shrinking
at the idea of doing what she knew to be so

1 66 Jessie's Parrot.

dishonest and deceitful. "I must have my
own mat, Hattie ; but I do wish this was mine
and the other Nellie's."

" But we can't put it back now, and I took
it for you," said Hattie complainingly. " Grade,
you must keep it now. I shall get into an
awful scrape if you don't; and it's real mean
of you."

It would take too long to tell you of all the
arguments and persuasions Hattie used. How
she pleaded and reproached ; how she insisted
that there was no way of undoing what she
had done ; how she excited and increased
Gracie's jealous pride and desire to outdo
Nellie ; and this last she found by far the most
effectual argument.

And — Gracie yielded. Persuading herself
that she had the best right to receive the high-
est premium because her own grandmamma
had offered it ; putting from her the thought
of the only way in which justice could now be
done to Nellie, on the plea that Hattie would
be disgraced, and she would be " too mean" to

" The Slider and the Fly" 167

bring this upon her ; rousing up all her own
naughty and envious feelings against innocent
Nellie, she gave way at last and fell before
temptation. Fell into the very sin, or even
worse, from which she felt herself so very
secure, — deceit and theft, for it was no less.
" Now I'll go, dear," said Hattie, jumping
up as soon as Gracie had yielded, perhaps
afraid that she might repent and insist that she
could not keep the mat, " and no one but us
two will ever know the secret. And, Gracie,
make up your mind to ask Miss Ashton's par-
don, so you won't lose all the fun."

IX.

A GUILTY CONSCIENCE.

j]F Oracle had been an unhappy and
miserable child before, what was she
now with all this load upon her con-
science ? For even pride and self-conceit could
not attempt to justify such a deed. Jealousy
had a good deal to say ; and she tried to listen
to that, and to believe also that she was not
really to blame : she had been forced into it ;
she could not betray Hattie, who had done this
from love to her. But she was more wretched
than it would be easy to tell ; and she was be-
ginning to feel such a contempt for her chosen
friend that this also was a sore spot in her

A Guilty Conscience. 169

heart. Day by day she was learning that there
was nothing true or honorable or upright about
Hattie. She hardly even seemed to think it
much harm to tell a falsehood, or appeared
ashamed when she was found out ; and for
some days she had had a growing feeling that
it was not pleasant to have a friend with the
character of a " story-teller," which Hattie
now bore among her school-fellows. And
Gracie ; was she not just as bad, perhaps even
worse ? For Gracie had been taught all the
value and beauty of truth, and had never till
now wilfully fallen away from it ; but she knew
that the worth of that jewel was not much con-
sidered in Hattie's home, and so it had lost its
preciousness in her eyes.

Miss Ashton, too, knew this ; and so she was
less severe with Hattie than she might have
been with another child who had a better
example and more encouragement to do right
in this particular.

Lily, in her plain speaking, would probably
have called Mr. and Mrs. Leroy by the same

170 Jessie's Parrot.

uncomplimentary name she had given to Mr.
Raymond ; for the same foolish system of man-
agement was carried on in their family. Prob-
ably they would have been much shocked to
hear it said that they taught the lesson of de-
ceit; but was it to be expected that Hattie
could have much regard for the truth when she
heard herself and her brothers and sisters
threatened with punishments, which were not,
perhaps could not be carried out ; when prom-
ises were made to them which were not kept ;
when they were frightened by tales of bears,
wolves, and old black men, and such things
which had no existence ?

" Willie, your mamma said she would send
you to bed if you went there," was said to little
Willie Leroy one day.

" Oh, I'm not afraid," answered Willie, con-
temptuously. " Mamma never does what she
says ; " and off he ran to the forbidden spot, his
words proving quite true, although his mamma
heard that he had disobeyed her so deliberately.

" Is your mother going to make you something

A Guilty Conscience. 171

for the fair ? " Hattie was asked by one of her
schoolmates.

" She says so ; but I don't know if she will,"
was the answer.

Hattie's was not the simple faith of " Mam-
ma says so," so sweet in little children.
Mamma might or might not do as she had said
she would, according to the convenience of
the moment.

So it was no marvel that Hattie thought it
no great harm to escape punishment or gain
some fancied good by stretching the truth, or
even telling a deliberate falsehood ; or that,
having a great love of talking, a story should
outgrow its true dimensions in her hands ; or
that she did not see what was honest and up-
right as well as some children.

But with Gracie Howard it was very differ-
ent.

Truth, and truth before all things, was the
motto in her home, the lesson which from her
babyhood had been taught to her by precept
and by example ; and the conscience which, iu

172 Jessie's Parrot.

Hattie, was so easily put to sleep, would not let
her rest. In vain did jealousy and ambition
try to reconcile her to the act of dishonesty
and meanness into which she had allowed her-
self to be drawn ; in vain did she argue with
herself that " it was all Hattie's fault ; " she
could not betray Hattie when she had done
this just for her ; or " there was no way of
putting the mat back now ; she could not help
herself." Gracie sinned with her eyes open,
and her conscience all alive to the wickedness
of which she was guilty.

But her stubborn pride was beginning to
give way in one point ; for she had no mind to
"lose the fun of the fair," as Hattie said, —
though even the fair had lost some of its
attraction with this weight upon her conscience,
— and she resolved to send for her mother, and
tell her she would ask Miss Ashton's pardon.

So when the long, weary afternoon had
worn away, and Mrs. Howard came home,
Gracie rang the bell, and sent a message beg-
ging her mother to come to her.

A Guilty Conscience. 173

Mamma came thankfully ; but one look at
her little daughter's face was enough to con-
vince her that she was in no softened mood,
in no gentle and humbled spirit. It was with
a sullen and still half-defiant manner that
Grade offered to do what was required of her ;
and her mother saw that it was fear of farther
punishment, and not real sorrow and repent-
ance, which moved her.

" I suppose I ought not to have spoken so,
mamma," she answered, when her mother
asked her if she did not see how very naughty
she had been ; " but Miss Ashton is so unjust,
and Nellie provokes me so."

" How is Miss Ashton unjust ? " asked Mrs.
Howard.

Gracie fidgeted and pouted, knowing that
her mother would not be willing to accept the
charges she was ready to bring.

" She's always praising Nellie for every thing
she does, mamma ; and in these days she never
gives me one word of praise, even when every
one has to see that I do the best. And — and

174 Jessie's Parrot.

— I b'lieve she tries to make me miss, so Nel-
lie can go above me in the classes."

" Grade," said her mother, " you know that
that last accusation is untrue. As for the first,
if Miss Ashton is sparing of her praise, my
daughter, it is because she knows it is hurtful
to you. Nellie is a timid child, trying to do
her best, but with little confidence in her own
powers ; and praise, while it encourages and
helps her to persevere, does not make her vain
or conceited. But Miss Ashton sees that that
which is needful for Nellie is hurtful to you ;
for it only increases your foolish vanity and
self-esteem, and it is for your own giod that
she gives you a smaller share. You have,
unhappily, so good an opinion of yourself,
Gracie, that praise not only makes you dis-
agreeable, but disposes you to take less trouble
to improve yourself. Let me hear no more of
Miss Ashton's injustice. When you deserve it,
or it does not hurt you, Miss Ashton is as ready
to give praise to you as she is to another. You
say you are willing to ask her pardon for your

A Guilty Conscience. 175

impertinence ; but I fear that you do not really
see your fault."

" Are you not going to let me come out, then,
mamma ? "

" Yes, since you promise to do as 1 say ; but
I fear you are in no proper spirit, Gracie, and
that you will fall into further trouble unless
you become more submissive and modest."

" Hattie was here this afternoon, mamma,"
said Gracie, as she followed her mother from
the room.

" So I understood," said Mrs. Howard, who
had been waiting for the confession, having been
informed of the circumstance by the servant.

" I left my mat in school yesterday," said
Gracie, " and she thought I would want it, and
came to bring it back."

She spoke in a low tone and with downcast
eyes ; for Gracie was so unused to deceit that
she could not carry it out boldly, as a more
practised child might have done.

Something in her manner struck her mother,
who turned and looked at her.

176 Jessie's Parrot.

" Did Hattie bring you any message from
Miss Ashton ? " she asked.

" No, mamma : she only came about the mat ;
and she begged me to ask Miss Ashton's par-
don," answered Gracie with the same hesita-
tion.

But her mother only thought that the avert-
ed face and drooping look were due to the
shame which she felt at meeting the rest of the
family after her late punishment and disgrace.

" I told Hattie you would not wish her to
stay with me, mamma ; but she would not go
right away, but I would not let her stay very
long."

" I am glad you were so honest, dear," said
Mrs Howard.

Honest ! Gracie knew how little she deserved
such a character, and her mother's praise made
her feel more guilty than ever.

She was received with open arms by the
otner children ; for Gracie was the eldest of the
flock, and, in spite of her self-conceit, she was
a kind little sister, and the younger ones quite

A Guilty Conscience. 177

shared her own opinion, thinking no child so
good and wise as their Gracie. And they had
missed her very much ; so now they all treated
her as if she had been ill or absent, and made
much of her.

But for once Gracie could not enjoy this,
and it only seemed to make her feel more
ashamed and guilty. What would mamma
say, what would all say if they only knew ?

Mrs. Howard had told Gracie that she might
either go to school early in the morning and
make her apology to Miss Ashton before the
other scholars came, or she might write to
her this evening, and send the note to her
teacher.

Gracie had chosen to do the last ; but when
the younger children had gone to bed, and she
tried to write the note, she found she could
not bring her mind to it. Her conscience was
so troubled, and her thoughts so full of her guilty
secret, that the words she needed would not
come to her ; and as her mother saw her sit-
ting with her elbows upon the table, biting tho
12

178 Jessie's Parrot.

end of her pencil or scrawling idly over her
blotter and seeming to make no progress at all,
she believed, and with reason, that Gracie was
not truly repentant for what she had done, and
had only promised to beg Miss Ashton's par-
don in order that she might be released from
the imprisonment of which she had tired.
Gracie was not usually at a loss for ideas or
words where she had any thing to write.

" I can't do it," she said pettishly at last,
pushing paper and pencil from her. " I s'pose
I'll have to go to Miss Ashton in the morning,
and I b'lieve I'll go to bed now. Good-night,
mamma."

And Gracie went to her room, wishing to
escape from her own thoughts, and bring
this miserable day to a close as soon as
possible.

But the next morning it was no better ; and
now it seemed harder to go to Miss Ashton
and speak than it would be to write. But it
was too late now : she had no time to compose
a note, " make it up " as she would have said,

A Guilty Conscience. 179

and to copy it before school, and she must
abide by her choice of the previous night.

She started early for school, according to
her mother's desire, with many charges from
her to remember how grievously she had
offended Miss Ashton, and to put away pride
and self-conceit and make her apology in a
proper spirit.

Had there not been that guilty secret fret-
ting at Gracie's heart, she might have been in-
duced to be more submissive ; but, as it was,
she felt so unhappy that it only increased her
reluctance to make amends to Miss Ashton and
acknowledge how wrong she had been.

She asked for her teacher at once when she
reached the house, anxious to " have it over ; "
and, when the young lady appeared, blurted out,
" I beg your pardon, Miss Ashton."

Miss Ashton sat down, and, taking Gracie's
half-reluctant hand, drew her kindly towards
her.

" It is freely granted, my dear," she said.
" And are you truly sorry, Gracie? "

i8o Jessies Parrot.

Gracie fidgeted and wriggled uneasily ; but
we who know what she had done can readily
believe that it was more pride than a strict
love of the truth which led her to say to her-
self that she was " not sorry, " and " she
could not tell a story by saying so."

" I beg your pardon, ma'am, and I won't do
so again," she repeated, seeing that Miss Ashton
waited for her answer.

Miss Ashton did not wish to force her to say
that which she did not feel, and she saw that
it was of no use to argue with her in her
present stubborn mood ; but she talked quietly
and kindly to her, setting before her the folly
and the wrong of the self-love and vanity
which were ruling her conduct, and day by day
spoiling all that was good and fair in her
character.

" See what trouble they have brought you into
now, Gracie," she said ; " and unless you
check them in time, my child, they will lead
you deeper into sin. I scarcely know you for
the same little girl who first came to me, so

A Guilty Conscience. 181

much have these faults grown upon you ; and
they are fast destroying all the affection and
confidence of your school-fellows. Why,
Gracie, I have heard one little girl say that
' Gracie thought so much of herself that it
sometimes made her forget to be very true. ' '

Gracie started. Was this the character her
self-love was earning for her ? she who
desired to stand so high in all points with the
world.

Ah ! but it was for the praise of man, and
not for the honor and glory of God that Gracie
strove to outshine all others ; and she walked
by her own strength, and the poor, weak prop
must fail her and would lay her low.

" Forget to be very true ! "

How far she had done this, even Miss Ash-
ton did not dream ; but it seemed to Gracie
that she had chosen her words to give her
the deepest thrust, and she bowed her head in
shame and fear.

But Miss Ashton, knowing nothing of what
was passing in that guilty young heart, was

182 Jessie's Parrot.

glad to see this, and believed that her -words
were at last making some impression on
Grade, and that she was taking her counsel and
reproof in a different spirit from that in which
she generally received them.

Strange to say, in all the miserable and
remorseful thoughts which had made her
wretched since yesterday afternoon, it had not
once entered her mind how she was to face
Nellie when the poor child should make known
the misfortune which had befallen her.

One by one the children came in, and how
awkward Gracie felt in meeting them may
readily be imagined by any one who has suf-
fered from some similar and well-merited dis-
grace. Still she tried, as she whispered to
Hattie she should do, to " behave as if nothing
had happened ; " and when little Belle, after
looking at her wistfully for a moment as if un-
decided how to act, came up and kissed her,
saying, " I'm glad to see you, Gracie," she
answered rather ungraciously, " I'm sure it's
not so very long since you saw me," and sent

A Guilty Conscience. 183

the dear little girl away feeling very much
rebuffed.

And yet she really felt Belle's innocent
friendliness, and her sweet attempt to make'
her welcome and at her ease ; but pride would
not let her show it.

Nellie was one of the last to arrive, and her
troubled and woe-begone face startled Gracie
and smote her to the heart.

" Such a dreadful thing has happened to me,"
said Nellie, when she was questioned by the
other children ; and the tears started to her
eyes afresh as she spoke.

" What is it ? What is it ? " asked a number
of eager voices.

" I don't know how it can have happened,"
said Nellie, hardly able to speak for the sobs
she vainly tried to keep back. " I have been
so, so careful ; but there is an ugly spot like ink
or something on my mat. I can't think how
it ever came there, for I put it in my desk very
carefully when school began yesterday, and did
not take it out till I got home, and I did not

184 Jessie's Parrot.

know there was any ink near it. But when I
unrolled it last evening the stain was there,
and mamma thinks it is ink, and she cannot
get it out. And I've taken such pains to keep
the mat clean and nice."

And here poor Nellie's voice broke down en-
tirely, while Gracie, feeling as if her self-com-
mand, too, must give way, opened her desk and
put her head therein, with a horrible choking
feeling in her throat.

" We'll all tell Mrs. Howard it came some-
how through not any fault of yours," said Lily.
" Never mind, Nellie, yours is the best mat,
anyhow : we all know it ; " and Lily cast a de-
fiant and provoking glance at Gracie, which
was quite lost upon the latter.

Lily had suggested on the day before, that
when Gracie came back to school they should
" all behave just as if nothing had happened,"
just what Gracie intended to do ; but generous
Lily had said it in quite a different spirit from
that in which Gracie proposed it to herself.

But Gracie's rebuff to Belle, and the seeming

A Guilty Conscience. 185

indifference with which she treated Nellie's
misfortune, roused Lily's indignation once
more ; for she thought, as did many of the other
children, that Gracie did not feel sorry for Nel-
lie's trouble, since it gave her the greater chance
of having her own work pronounced the best.

" Yes, we will tell Mrs. Howard," said Dora
Johnson : " yours was really the best mat of
all, though Grade's was almost as nice ; and
we will tell her something happened to it that
you could not help, and perhaps she will not
mind it."

" Perhaps a vase standing on it would cover
the spot," said Laura Middleton.

Nellie shook her head.

" No," she said, " that would not make it
any better. Mrs. Howard said that the best
and neatest mat must take the highest pre-
mium, and mine is not the neatest now. I
wouldn't feel comfortable to do any thing that
was not quite fair, even if you all said I
might,"

" That was not quite fair ! "

1 86 Jessie's Parrot.

More and more ashamed, and feeling how
far behind Nellie left her in honesty and fair-
ness, Grade still sat fumbling in her desk,
looking for nothing.

" Well," said Dora, " we'll speak to Mrs.
Howard about it, and see what she says : won't
we, Gracie ? "

Gracie muttered something which might
mean either yes or no.

" Augh ! " said Lily, " what do you talk to
that proudy about it for ? She don't care a
bit. I b'lieve she's just glad and wouldn't help
Nellie if she could."

Gracie made no answer : she was too miser-
able for words or to think of answering Lily's
taunts, and she would have given up all thought
of having any thing to do with the fair to have
had Nellie's mat safely in her possession once
more. Oh, if she had never yielded to temp-
tation or to Hattie's persuasions !

" How you do act ! " whispered Hattie to
Gracie. " If you don't take care they will sus-
pect something."

A Guilty Conscience. 187

" I can't help it," returned Gracie in the
same tone : " it is such an awful story that we
have told."

"It is not a story," said Hattie; "we've
neither of us said one word about the mat."

This was a new view of the matter ; but it
brought no comfort to Grade's conscience
She knew that the acted deceit was as bad as
the spoken one, perhaps in this case even worse.

She felt as if she could not bear this any
longer, as if she must tell, must confess what
she had done; and yet — how? How could
she lower herself so in the eyes of her school-
mates ? she who had always held herself so
high, been so scornful over the least meanness,
equivocation, or approach to falsehood !

A more wretched little girl than Gracie was
that morning it would have been hard to find ;
but her teacher and schoolmates thought her
want of spirit arose from the recollection of
her late naughtiness and the feeling of shame,
and took as little notice of it as possible.

And Lily, repenting of her resentment when

1 88 Jessie's Parrot.

she saw how dull and miserable Grade seemed,
threw her arms about her neck as they were
leaving schoo!2 and said, " Please forgive me
my provokingness this morning, Gracie. I
ought to be ashamed, and I am."

But Gracie could not return, scarcely suffer,
the caress, and dared not trust herself to speak,
as she thought how furious Lily's indignation
would be if she but knew the truth.

X.

A GAME OF CHARACTERS.

|T home or at school, studying, working
or playing — for the latter she had
little heart now — Grade could not
shake off the weight that was upon her mind
and spirits. Even her work for the fair had
lost its interest ; and as for the mat, Nellie's
mat, she could not bear the sight of it. She
went to sleep at night thinking of it, and. try-
ing to contrive some way out of her difficulty,
though she would not listen to the voice of her
conscience which whispered that there was but
one way ; and she woke in the morning with
the feeling that something dreadful had hap-
pened. Appetite and spirits failed ; she grew

190 Jessie s Parrot.

fretful and irritable, and her mother imagined
that she must be ill, though Gracie resolutely
persisted that there was nothing the matter
with her, and that she felt quite well.

" Gracie," said Mrs. Howard one" morning
after three or four days had passed, " it appears
to me that you an not doing much on your
mat. How is that ? "

" I don't care," answered Gracie, fretfully.
" I don't believe I'll finish it. I'm tired of the
old thing."

" That will not do, my child," said her
mother. " You have undertaken to do this for
your grandmamma and for the fair, and I can-
not have you stop it now without some good
reason. Bring the mat to me."

Gracie went for the mat very unwillingly,
though she dared not refuse nor even show her
reluctance.

" It really does you credit," said Mrs.
Howard, taking it from her hands : " it is so
smooth and even, and you have kept it so
neat. But you must be more industrious, dear,

A Game of Characters. 191

if you are to have it finished in time. And
see, Gracie," she continued, looking at it more
closely, "these last few lines look not quite
as nicely as the rest. There is a difference in
the work, and you will have to take more pains
than you have done here. It looks almost as
if another person had worked it. You have
not let any one help you with it, have you ? "

" No, mamma," replied Gracie in a low ton-e
and with a frightened feeling. Was there
really such a difference between her work and
Nellie's that it was so easily detected ?

It had not occurred either to her or to
Hattie, perhaps they did not know, that the
work of two different hands seldom or never
matches well upon embroidery in worsted,
and that it is almost sure to be perceived.
She was dismayed at the thought that her
mother had noticed this, and now every stitch
that she took seemed to make the difference
more plain, take what pains she might.

She began to feel angry and indignant at
Hattie for leading her into this sin, shutting

192 Jessie's Parrot.

her eyes to the fact that, if she had not
allowed proud and jealous thoughts to creep
into her heart, temptation would not have had
so much influence over her.

She no longer took any pleasure in the
society of her little friend, and shrank from
her in a way that Hattie perceived, and by
which she was hurt ; for she was disposed in
her own mind to throw all the blame upon
Hattie, forgetting that she was really the most
to blame, since she had been better taught, and
saw more clearly the difference between right
and wrong.

As for Nellie, poor, innocent, injured Nellie,
Gracie felt as if she could not bear the sight
of her ; and when she saw in what a gentle,
patient spirit she took her great misfortune,
— for so all the children considered it, — she
grew more and more ashamed and lowered in
her own sight. Pride and self-esteem could
not now blind her to the fact that Nellie
was better, far better, than herself.

Meanwhile the change in Gracie was excit-

A Game of Characters. 193

ing the wonder of all, the pity of some, of her
young friends and schoolmates. Only Hattie
held the clew to it ; and she was surprised that
such " a trifle,'' as she considered it, should
have such an effect upon Gracie and make her
so unhappy.

But Gracie was not a really bad or deceit-
ful child, although she had suffered herself to
be led so far astray. She was not naturally
more unkind or selfish than most of us who
have not the love and fear of God before us ;
indeed she was what children call " generous "
in giving or sharing what she had, and she
was always glad to do a helpful or obliging
act for another. But she had always trusted
to her own strength, and believed she could
not fall, and now she was learning that her
high thoughts of herself, and her carelessness
of what she considered little faults, had made
her an easy prey to temptation and the
indulgence of a foolish pride and jealousy had
led her into this great sin into which she had
not imagined she could fall. But although
18

194 Jessie's Parrot.

she saw this now, she was not truly repent-
ant; for she would not take the only right
and true way to make amends ; and spent her
time wishing vain wishes, and trying to con-
trive some way out of her difficulty without
bringing disgrace upon herself or losing her
character for honor and truthfulness among-

O

her young companions. It troubled Gracie far
less to think how she already stood in the eyes
of God, than it did to imagine how she might
appear in the sight of her earthly friends if
this thing were known.

There was a small children's party at Mrs.
Bradford's. Gracie did not care to go ; indeed
she would much rather not have done so : but
her mother had accepted for her, and she had
no good excuse for staying away.

She was more restless and miserable than
usual that afternoon : she set up her opinion
against that of all the rest, found fault with
her playmates in every game that was begun,
was more than usually sure that she knew
every thing and could do better than any one

A Game of Characters. 195

else, and, not having her wits and thoughts
about her, miserably failed in all the plays in
which she meant to shine.

" What shall we play now ? " asked Bessie
at length, when they had all tired of some
romping game.

" Let's take a little rest, and play ' Charac-
ters,' " said Gracie, who was very good in this,
having no match among her present playmates
save Maggie.

" Well," said Maggie, willing to please her
if possible, although she saw some objections
to the game just now ; " we'll play it ; but it
is rather hard for the younger ones, so we
must take easy characters. Who'll go out ? "

" I will," said Lily ; " but mind you do take
an easy one. Somebody we know very well, not
any history or jography character. I don't
want to bother my head about lesson people
when I'm playing."

" Very well," said Maggie ; and Lily went
out, singing loudly in the hall that she might
" be sure and not hear."

196 Jessie's Parrot

" Let's take Cromwell," said Grade, always
anxious, no matter what her frame of mind, to
display her knowledge.

" No," said Maggie, " that's too hard for
Lily ; and she wants us to take some one we
know."

" I should think any goose might know about
Cromwell," said Gracie.

" We did not know about him till a few
weeks ago," said Dora Johnson. " We've
only just had him in our history, and I don't
b'lieve Lily knows much about him."

" Then take Lafayette," said Gracie.

" Lily means some of the people we have in
our own lives," said Bessie. " Make haste :
she'll be tired."

This was seconded by Lily's voice calling
from without, " Why don't you make haste ?
I should think you were choosing a hundred
people."

" Let's take Flossey," said Belle, looking at
the dog, who had jumped upon a chair beside
Maggie, where he sat with a wise and sedate

A Game of Characters. 197

air as if he were listening to all that passed,
and ready to take his share in the game.

This was agreed upon by all but Gracie, who
declared that it was " ridiculous to choose a
dog," and she had " a great mind not to play
the game in such an absurd way."

Lily was called in and proceeded to ask her
questions.

" Male or female ? " was the first, beginning
at Dora.

" Male," answered Dora.

" Black or white ? " asked Lily.

" Neither," said Belle, who was next in turn,
" least he's not black at all ; but he's some
white."

Lily looked rather puzzled at this.

" And what color besides is he ? "

" Brown," answered Bessie.

" A brown and white man," said Lily. " Oh !
I know. It's old black Peter."

" No, no, no," echoed around the circle.

" Not one scrap of Peter is white," said
Mamie Stone. " He's the blackest old man I
ever sa\v."

198 Jessies Parrot.

" Part of his eyes are white and his teeth
too,'* said Lily, who was generally pretty sure
of her ground when she stated a fact. " Where
does he live ? "

" In this country," said Nellie.

" In this city ? "

" Yes," answered Maggie.

" Is he good or bad ? "

" Good, most generally," answered Mabel ;
" only sometimes pretty mischievous."

"Oh," said Lily, light beginning to break
upon her. " Can he talk ? "

" He tan't talt, but he tan bart. pretty well,"
said Frankie, to whom the question fell.

" Oh ! oh ! that's too plain," cried one and
another laughing ; and Maggie, thinking Frankie
did not understand the game well enough to be
allowed to go out, gave a hint to Lily, but not-
wishing to hurt her little brother's feelings took
refuge in the French language, and said : —

" Ne guessez pas a lui."

Frankie, however, was too sharp for her ;
there was not much that escaped him, and he

A Game of Characters. 199

exclaimed in a very aggrieved tone that it was
" not fair," and that Lily should guess at him.

So Lily said " Flossey " was the character ;
and, amid much laughter, the young gentleman
betook himself to the hall with a pompous air,
telling the little girls to make haste.

" Let's take himself," said . Bessie, which
being agreed upon, Frankie was called back
almost before he was well out of the room.

" Is he blat or white ? " he asked, following
Lily's example, and beginning as she had done
at Dora.

" He's white," said Dora laughing ; and, in
obedience to a suggestion from Maggie to help
him out, she added, — " white, with brown eyes
and red cheeks and brown hair."

" Flossey," cried Frankie triumphantly.

"No, no ; not Flossey again," said the chil-
dren.

" Does he have four feets ? " asked the little
boy.

" No, only two," said Belle.

" Does he live in the stable? " asked Frankie.

2OO Jessie's Parrot.

" No, he lives in this house," said Bessie.

" Blackie," said Frankie, who was unable to
give up the idea that since it was not Flossey
it must be the little pony owned by his sisters.

" Does he eat hay ? " was his next question.

" No," answered Nellie, " he eats fruit and
meat and bread and milk, and, oh ! how he
does love sugar and candy ! "

" Me," cried Frankie, feeling that this des-
cription exactly suited himself.

The character having been guessed at Nel-
lie she now went out, and Maggie, willing to
put Gracie in a good humor if possible, asked
her who they should take this time.

" Mary, Queen of Scots," answered Gracie
promptly.

It was not altogether probable that the
younger children knew much of this unfor-
tunate lady, but Grade's choice was acceded
to and Nellie called.

" Male or female ? " was of course the first
question.

" Female," answered Dora.

A Game of Characters. 201

" Old or young ? "

"Um — m — m, pretty old," said Belle;
" at least she was grown up."

" Is she alive now ? "

" No," answered Bessie.

" Where did she" live ? "

"Well," said Lily, "she lived in a good
many places. But not in this country. Gene-
rally in France or Scotland."

" Oh," said Nellie to whom this answer gave
an inkling of the truth ; but she passed on to
the next.

" Was she good or bad, Maggie ? "

" Some think her quite celestial and some
think her quite infernal," answered Maggie
with grand emphasis ; " but on the whole I
think she was not either, only rather middling
like the most of us."

Nellie felt more confident than ever; but
not caring to risk one of her three guesses as
yet, she passed on. The questions she put to
Mabel and Frankie were simple and very easily
answered ; then came Gracie's turn.

2O2 Jessie's Parrot.

" What was she celebrated for ? "

" For cruelty and persecuting people,"
answered Gracie confidently ; and Nellie's
idea was at once put to flight by the reply.

" That's a mistake," said Dora. " You are
thinking of another character, Gracie."

" I'm not, either," said Gracie. " Don't I
know history better than any of you ? "

" You don't know that, anyway," said Mag-
gie. " Gracie, you are wrong. She was not
the character you are thinking of, and was not
celebrated for that."

" But she was" persisted Gracie.

" Nellie," said Maggie, " you need not
guess by what Gracie has told you, for she is
not right."

" I'll put my question another way," said
Nellie. " Can I ask Gracie once again ? "

All agreed and Nellie asked, —

" Was she celebrated for her beauty and
her misfortunes ? "

"I shan't tell you," said Gracie snappishly.
" If I do, I shan't be believed, but they'll all

A Game of Characters. 203

go and contradict me. I suppose I know what
I know ; and any of you might be proud if you
knew as much history as I do and had kept the
head of the class so long."

Gracie had for a moment forgotten how dis-
gracefully she had lost her place at the head
of the history class, but the silence that fol-
lowed her ill-tempered speech brought it back
to her and increased her vexation.

" You all think you know so much," she
said, throwing herself back sullenly in her
chair.

Bessie had begged Lily to bear with Gracie
and not to aggravate her as she seemed so
miserable and out of spirits, and Lily had
been very forbearing; at least, so she thought.
But now her small stock of patience was quite
exhausted and she exclaimed vehemently : —

" Gracie, we try to stand you ; we do try
with all our might and main ; but you use up
every bit of standing there is in me ! "

This did not mend matters in Grade's pres-
ent state of mind, but led to a pretty severe

204 Jessie's Parrot.

quarrel between her and Lily which the others
vainly tried to heal, Lily being rather provok-
ing, and Gracie obstinately sullen and ill-tem-
pered.

It ended in a violent burst of tears from the
latter, and a declaration that she would go
home at once. But this was impossible, since
it was now evening ; and the children's sup-
per-time being near at hand, Mrs. Bradford
could not just then spare a servant to go home
with Gracie.

No soothing or coaxing proved of any avail,
nor did Lily's repentance ; for she was sorry
now that she had been provoking, and would
readily have kissed and made up if Gracie
could have been persuaded to do so.

Gracie said that she would not stay where
Lily was, and went sulkily upstairs to the
room where Maggie and Bessie slept.

XI.

CONFESSION.

RACIE expected and wished to be
left to herself till it was time to go
home ; at least she thought she did,
and she had quite made up her mind that if
any one came and begged her to go down to
supper she would steadily refuse.

She stood there with all manner of unhappy
and wretched feelings, wishing vain and fruit-
less wishes, as she had so often done since she
had fallen into this sin, — that she had never
allowed Hattie to tempt her into doing what
she knew to be wrong ; that grandmamma had
never made this plan or offered to put a price
on the different pieces of work ; that she had

206 Jessie's Parrot.

never gone to the school, or that Nellie had
never belonged to it ; but still she did not think
of wishing that she had not thought so much
of herself or been so very anxious above all
things to be first.

Poor Gracie ! Only those can tell how un-
happy she was who have themselves so fallen
and so suffered. There was no way out of her
trouble but by confessing all the truth, and she
could not bring herself to that.

She had not closed the door when she came
in, and presently she heard a gentle foot-fall,
then Bessie's soft voice, saying, " Are you in
here, Gracie ? "

There was no light in the room save the
faint glimmer of moonlight which came
through the window, and as Gracie stood in
the shade, Bessie did not at first see her.

"Yes, I'm here, but I don't want any
supper, and I'm not coming down till I go
home," answered Gracie, not as ungraciously
as she had intended to speak, for somehow
she could not be disagreeable to dear Bessie.

Confession. 207

" Supper is not quite ready yet, and you
shall have some up here if you had very much
rather not come down," said Bessie with a
coaxing tone in her voice ; " but you'd better
come down, Gracie. They're all very sorry
for you and don't think you meant to be cross,
'cause Nellie said she was sure something
troubled you for a good many days, or you
did not feel well, and that often made people
impatient, so we ought not to be mad at you."

Gracie made no answer, but presently Bessie
heard a low sob.

" Gracie, dear," she said, coming closer to
her little friend and putting her arms about
her neck, " something does trouble you,
doesn't it ? Couldn't you tell me what it is,
and let me see if I could comfort you ? Some-
times it makes people feel better to tell their
troubles and have some one feel sorry for
them."

The caressing touch, the tender manner,
the earnest, pleading voice were too much for
Gracie, and, throwing herself down on a chair,

208 Jessie's Parrot.

she buried her face in her arms and sobbed
bitterly.

Bessie let her cry for a moment, for the
wise little woman knew that tears often do
one good for a while, and contented herself
with giving soft touches to Gracie's hair and
neck to let her know she was still beside her
and ready to give her her sympathy.

At last Gracie raised her head and said
brokenly, " Oh, Bessie, I am so bad ! I am so
wicked ! "

" I don't think being rather — rather —
well, rather cross, is so very wicked" said
Bessie, hesitating to give a hard name to
Gracie's ill-temper, " and if you are sorry now
and will come downstairs, we'll all be very
glad to see you."

" Oh, it isn't that," sobbed Gracie. " Bessie,
if you knew what I've done, you'd hate me.
I know you would."

" No, I wouldn't," said Bessie. " I'd never
hate you, Gracie. I'd only be sorry for you
and try to help you."

Confession. 209

" You can't help me. No one can help
me," said Oracle, in a fresh paroxysm of
distress.

" Can't your mamma ? Mammas generally
can," said Bessie.

" No, not even mamma," answered Gracie.
" Oh, Bessie, I do feel as if it would be a kind
of relief to tell you ; but you'd hate me, you
couldn't help it; and so would every one
else."

" Every one else need not know it because
you tell me," said Bessie. " Tell Jesus, and
ask Him to help you, Gracie."

" Even He can't," said Gracie ; " at least —
at least — not unless I tell other people who
ought to know it."

" Do you mean He would want you to tell
it?"

" Yes, I s'pose so," almost whispered Gracie.

Bessie considered a moment. That Gracie

was full of a vain, foolish pride and self-conceit,

she knew ; also that she was not the Gracie

of a year or two since ; but that she would

14

2io Jessie's Parrot.

wrong any one she never dreamed, and sho
could not imagine any cause for this great
distress.

" Gracie," she said, " I think by what
you say that you must have done something to
me. I can't think what it can be ; but I prom-
ise not to be angry. I will be friends with
you all the same."

" It was not you ; no, it was not you ; but,
Bessie, it was such a dreadful thing and so
mean that you never can bear me after you
know it. You are so very true yourself."

" Have you told a story ? " asked Bessie in
a troubled voice.

" Not told a story, but I acted one," sobbed
Gracie. " 0 Bessie ! sit down here and let
me tell you. I can't keep it in any longer.
Maybe you'll tell me what to do ; but I know
what you'll say, and I can't do that."

Bessie did as she was requested, and, in as
few whispered words as possible, Gracie poured
her wretched story into her ears.

Bessie sprang to her feet, and her arms

Confession. 211

which she had clasped about Grade's neck
fell away from it. It was as the latter had
feared ; this was so much worse than any thing
Bessie had expected, she was herself so truth-
ful and upright, that her whole soul was filled
with horror and dismay. No wonder that
Gracie was distressed. This was indeed
dreadful.

" I knew it, I knew it," said Gracie, bury-
ing her face again. " I knew you never could
bear me again. It seemed as if I couldn't
help telling you, Bessie ; but you never, never
will speak to me again. I wish — I wish —
oh, I almost wish I was an orphan and had no
one to care for me, so I could wish I was dead,
only I'm too bad to go to God."

Sympathy and pity were regaining their
place in Bessie's heart in spite of her horror
and indignation at what Gracie had done, and
once more she sat down beside her and tried to
soothe and comfort.

She succeeded in part at least. Gracie's sobs
grew less violent, and she let Bessie persuade

212 Jessie's Parrot.

her to raise her head. Then they sat side by
side, Bessie holding her hand.

" What would you do, Bessie ? " asked Gracie.
" I know I ought to tell, but I don't see how I
can. It will be such a disgrace, and all the
girls will have to know, and I've made such a
fuss about myself, and always thought I never
could do any thing that was very bad. And
now this."

And now this !

Yes, after all her beasting, after all her
self-confidence, her belief that she could not
and would not fall into greater sin through her
own conceit and vanity.

Bessie knew all this ; knew how confident
Gracie had been in her own strength ; knew
what a bitter shame and mortification it must
be to have this known ; knew that it must be long
before she could regain the trust and respect of
her schoolmates after this thing should once be
told. During the last few months Gracie had
lost much of the liking and affection of her
little friends ; but not one among them would

Confession. 213

have believed her capable of deliberate deceit
or of that which was not strictly honest.

Ah ! it was a great and terrible fall. Bessie
felt this as well as Gracie.

But she knew also that there was but one
tiling for Gracie to do ; but one way in which
she could have any peace or comfort once
more.

Bessie was not the child for Gracie to put
confidence in, if she expected advice that was
not plain and straightforward.

" What shall I do, Bessie ? " she repeated.

" I think you'll have to tell, dear," said the
pitying little voice beside her.

Gracie actually shrank in a kind of terror
at the thought ; and yet she had known that
this was what Bessie would say.

" Oh ! I can't, I can't ; I never can," she
moaned.

" But, Gracie, dear," said the little monitress,
" I don't think you will ever feel happy and
comfortable again till you do ; and Jesus is
displeased with you all the time till you do it.

214 Jessie's Parrot.

If you told about it and tried to make it up to
Nellie, then He would be pleased with you
again. And then you could have comfort in
that even if people were rather cross to you
about it. And, Gracie, Maggie and I will not
be offended with you. I know Maggie will
not ; and we'll coax the other girls not to tease
you or be unkind to you about it."

" Don't you think it was so very wicked in
me then ? " asked Gracie. " 0 Bessie ! you
are such a good child, I don't believe you ever
have wicked thoughts. You don't know how
hard it is sometimes not to do wrong when
you want to do it very much, — when a
very, very great temptation comes, like this."

" Yes," said Bessie, " I think I do, Gracie.
And you are very much mistaken when you
say I never have naughty thoughts. I have
them very often, and the only way I can make
them go is, to ask Jesus to help me, and to
keep asking Him till they do go, and the temp-
tation too. Perhaps, when you had the temp-
tation to do this you did not remember to ask

Confession. 2K

" No, I did not," said Gracie. " But, Bes-
sie, it never seemed to me that I could do a
tiling that was not quite true and honest. And
I suppose it has come because I thought too
much of myself and wanted too much to have
my work the best. It was not that I cared
about the money, for you know that was for
Jessie and her grandfather ; but I wanted
every one to say mine was the best ; and it
made me so mad that any one should say
Nellie's was better than mine. If I had not
cared so very much, Hattie would not have per-
suaded me, for I did know it was horribly
mean. You never had a temptation like this,
Bessie."

" I don't know," said Bessie slowly. " I
think I once had one something like it. Don't
you remember, Gracie, that time you lost your
prize composition and we found it in the
drawer of the hall-table ? "

"Yes," answered Gracie, "and how cross
I was about it, and how hateful to you and
Maggie."

216 "Jessie's Parrot.

" "Well," said Bessie, " I had a very hard
temptation that time. I found the composi-
tion first, and I wanted to leave it there and
not tell any one, 'cause I wanted Maggie to
have the prize so much ; and at first it did not
seem so very wrong to me, and I tried to think
I ought not to tell, because then my own
Maggie could have the prize ; but I did not
feel sure about it, so I asked Jesus to let me
see what I ought to do, and then I saw it
quite plain, and knew I must take the composi-
tion to you. But it was a dreadful temptation,
Gracie."

" Yes," said Gracie with a sigh, feeling
deeply the difference between herself and her
dear little playmate who had so bravely
resisted temptation. For she knew how very
anxious Bessie had been that Maggie should
gain the prize.

" But you did not do the thing you were
tempted to do," she said. " What would you
do if you had, Bessie ? "

" I should go right away and tell my mam-

Confession. 217

ma ; and perhaps she could find some way to
help me out of it," said Bessie. " Anyway,
she ought to know, and she will tell you what
you ought to do."

" Oh, it will make mamma feel dreadfully,"
said Gracie. " She was always telling me I
would fall into trouble some day because I
thought too much of myself; but, oh, dear!
she never could have believed I would do this.
Wouldn't you feel awfully, Bessie, if you had
done it ? "

Yes, indeed. Bessie felt that she should ;
it almost seemed to her that she should die if
she had such a weight on her mind and
conscience, and she felt for Gracie most
deeply.

But still she knew that Gracie would never
feel right again till she had made confession,
and she once more urged it upon her ; confes-
sion to God and man ; and at last Gracie
promised.

Promised with many tears and sobs ; but
that promise once given, she became in haste

2i8 Jessie's Parrot.

to have it over and to go home to her mamma
at once.

" Ask your mamma to let me go home as
soon as she can, Bessie," she pleaded. " Tell
her I do not feel well, for I do not really.
My head aches and I feel all shaky, as if I
could not hold still ; and I don't want to see
any one down stairs again or to have any
supper."

Bessie was about to leave her to do as she
was asked, when Mrs. Bradford came in.

" Grade and Bessie," she said, " are you
here ? You were so long in coming that I
feared something was wrong. Will you not
come down and have some supper, Gracie ? "

Gracie did not speak, but held fast to
Bessie's hand.

" Mamma," said the little girl, " Gracie does
not feel well, and she would like to go home as
soon as you could send her. She's quite
trembling, mamma. I feel her."

Mrs. Bradford took Grade's hand in hers
and found that it was indeed cold and trern-

Confession. 219

bling, while her temples were hot and throb-
bing ; for over-excitement and worry had made
her really ill, and the lady saw that she was
more fit for bed than for the supper-room.

She told Gracie she should go home immedi-
ately, and putting on her hat led her down
stairs, and calling Mr. Bradford, begged him
to take the poor little girl home and explain
matters to her mamma.

Gracie clung to Bessie for a good-night kiss,
whispering, " I will do it, Bessie ; no matter
what comes after, I will do it."

Mr. Bradford took her home, — it was not
far from his house, — talking cheerfully by the
way and trying to keep her amused ; but,
though Gracie felt he was kind, she hardly
knew what he was saying, her mind was so
taken up with the thought of the dreadful
secret she had to confess.

Mrs. Howard was startled, as was only
natural, to see her little girl coming home so
much before she had expected her ; and . Mr.
Bradford's assurance that he did not think

220 Jessie's Parrot.

there was much wrong with Oracle, and that
she would be well after a good night's sleep,
did not quiet her fears, especially when she
looked in Gracie's face.

She quickly undressed her and put her to
bed ; but, longing as Gracie was to have her
confession over, she could not tell it while the
nurse was in the room ; and it was not until
she was safely in bed, and the woman sent to
prepare some medicine, that she gave vent to
the tears she had managed to keep back before
her.

" There, there, my darling," said her mother
soothingly. " You will be better soon. Do
not be frightened ; this is only a little nervous-
ness."

" 0 mamma, mamma ! " cried poor Gracie ;
"you ought not to be so kind to me. You
don't know how bad, how very bad I am."

" Is there any thing especially wrong just
now, Gracie?" asked her mother gently.

"Yes, mamma; oh, yes. I have — I have
— put your head closer, mamma, and let me

Confession . 221

whisper ; " and then, with her face hidden
against her mother's shoulder, came the con-
fession, made with many bitter tears and
sobs.

Mrs. Howard was greatly shocked ; she
could hardly speak when she heard all.

" Shall you ever be able to forgive me,
mamma ? " sobbed Gracie. " I know, I know
you think me perfectly dreadful, but if you
could try me just this once, and see if I ever
do such a thing again. Indeed, I don't think
I could. I know I am not too good to do it,
as I thought I was before ; but I have felt so
dreadfully ever since I did it, I don't think I
could evpr punish myself so again."

" I can believe that you have been very
unhappy, my child," said her mother ; " indeed
I have seen it, though I did not know the
cause. But you have need to ask a higher
forgiveness than mine."

"I will, mamma," said Gracie; " but — but
— I suppose Nellie and the other children
must be told ? "

222 'Jessie's Parrot.

" I fear so, Gracie," said her mother.
" Nellie must be righted and have her own
mat again, and I do not see how we are to
avoid having the rest of the children hear this
terrible thing also. I must see Miss Ashton
in the morning and talk it over with her, and
we will arrange what is best to be done. But
now you must try to be quiet and go to sleep.
You are over-excited and will be really ill, so
I can allow you to talk no more. But before
you sleep, my child, make your peace with your
Father in heaven, and ask Him to help you
to bear the punishment you have brought upon
yourself by your naughty pride and ambi-
tion."

Gracie obeyed her mother as well as she
was able ; and, truly repentant, we may hope,
at last fell into a troubled sleep.

XII.

THE FAIR.

jjHE next day was Saturday, when there
was no school, so that Mrs. Howard
was able to see Miss Ash ton and tell
her the sad story, quite early in the morning.
Miss Ashton was much grieved and sur-
prised ; for, as she told Mrs. Howard, although
she had known that Gracie's high thoughts of
herself and belief that she was wiser and
better than any of her companions often led
her into exaggeration, yet she could not have
believed her capable of any thing that was
really mean and dishonorable.

She was distressed, too, at the thought of the
exposure and mortification which must follow ;

224 Jessie's Parrot.

for it seemed necessary, for Nellie's sake, that
not only Grandmamma Howard, but the whole
school should know the truth. She and Mrs.
Howard talked it all over for some time, but
neither of the two ladies saw any way to avoid
this disgrace for Gracie. They would willingly
have spared her the punishment, if possible,
for she had already suffered severely, and she
seemed so truly humble and repentant that her
mother did not believe there was much fear
she would again fall into this sin.

Mrs. Howard had thought last night that
perhaps she ought to deprive Gracie of any
share in the fair ; but that must make her
disgrace very well known, and now she hoped
that there was no need of further punishment
to make her see and feel her great fault.

And now Grandmamma Howard must be
seen and told the sad story. Mrs. Howard
knew that she would be much distressed that
her kind plan should turn out so badly.
Neither Grade's mamma nor Miss Ashton had
quite approved of that plan ; especially on

The Fair. 225

Grade's account, but they could not well say
so and cross the good old lady.

It was as they had feared. Grandmamma
was very much grieved and disturbed to know
that what she had intended to be a help and a
kindness, had only proved a source of trouble,
and an encouragement to Gracie's besetting
sin.

There yet remained to Mrs. Howard the
still more painful task of telling Nellie how
she had been wronged. She would have
thought it right to make Grade do this her
self, had it not been that the child was really
ill that morning, and in no state for further
excitement ; and it was not just to Nellie to
put off the confession any longer.

Nellie was filled with amazement. Much as
she had wondered over the unfortunate spot
upon the mat she supposed to be hers, she had
never dreamed of a thing like this, nor had
she the least suspicion of the truth. Indeed,
how should she ?

She was a quiet child, with a more wise and
15

226 Jessie's Parrot.

thoughtful little head than those who did not
know her well would have given her credit
for; but words did not come to her very
readily, and, after the first surprise was over,
she only said to Mrs. Howard, with the tears
in her eyes, —

" Please tell Gracie I am not angry with
her, and hope she will be friends with me
once more. Let's try not to think about it
any more than we can help; will you, Mrs.
Howard ? "

Generous, forgiving Nellie ! How ashamed
Gracie felt when her mother told her this, and
she contrasted Nellie's conduct with her own.

She lay upon her little bed that afternoon,
feeling wretched both in mind and body,
though it was a relief to remember that she
had confessed all to mamma, and that she had
set her face toward the right way once more,
when Mrs. Howard came in bringing Nellie
with her.

Poor Gracie gave a low sob, and covered her
face with her hands in utter shame and dis-

The Fair. 227

tress, feeling as if she could not bear to have
Nellie look at her.

But in a moment Nellie was beside her,
saying,—

" Don't, Grade ; please don't. You needn't
feel so very badly about it now. I don't care
much, and we'll make it all up."

" Oh, Nellie, Nellie ! I don't deserve you to
be so kind to me," sobbed Gracie. " I was
so hateful to you and so jealous, and it seemed
as if I could not bear to have you go before
me in any thing. I know I've been just too
hateful to you."

" Well, never mind now," said Nellie.

Mrs. Howard had gone out and left the two
children together.

" I can't help minding," said Gracie ; " and,
only think, Nellie, all the other girls in the
school will have to know, and it will shame
me almost to death. I hope, I hope mamma
will never make me go back to school, and I
mean to stay away from the fair, any way."

" That is what I came to see you about,"

228 Jessie's Parrot.

said Nellie." "The girls need not know,
Gracie. You see my — your — the mat with
the ink-spot on it is nearly finished now, so I
have done about as much work on one as on the
other. And I don't care so very much about
having mine called the best, for the money
will do Jessie and her grandfather just as
much good, no matter who earns it. So if
each of us finishes the one she has now, it
will be all the same, and the rest of the
children need never know it. I am sure,
Gracie, I should feel just as you do, and never
want to come back to school again or see any
of our class if I had done this, and I know
just how badly you must feel. So I thought
about it, and it seemed to me it would come
right again if we just went on with the work
as if this had not been found out ; I mean if
you had not told. I'd rather no one would
know it but just those who know now. Don't
you think we could arrange it so, Gracie?
Your mother gave me leave to tell you this,
and says she would be very glad for you if it

The Fair. 229

can be done, and she thinks Miss Ashton will
be willing."

To hear the earnest, wistful voice one might
have supposed that generous, great-hearted
Nellie was pleading for some great boon for
herself.

But she could not tell all that Gracie felt.
No, indeed ; she did not know what coals of
fire she was heaping on her head ; how per-
fectly humbled and remorseful she felt as she
remembered all the hard thoughts she had
cherished toward her ; the unkind words and
unjust actions of which she had been guilty ;
all forgotten now, it seemed, by Nellie, who
was only anxious to make the path of repent-
ance as easy as possible to her, and to avoid
all unnecessary shame and exposure to the one
who had so greatly injured her.

With many sobs and broken words she told
Nellie all that was in her heart, beseeching
her forgiveness, and thanking her over and
over for her consideration and sweet thought-
fulness ; not that she put it in just such words,

230 Jessies Parrot.

but in those that were very simple and very
touching to Nellie.

So peace was made between them, — a peace
that was sure to be lasting and true where
there was such sincere repentance on one side,
such good will and hearty forgiveness on the
other.

Grandmamma Howard was only too glad
on Gracie's account to accept Nellie's generous
proposal.

Miss Ashton also agreed that the matter
should go no further, and so it was arranged,
and further disgrace to Gracie avoided, al-
though the weight of shame and remorse was
not readily lifted from her heart, and she felt
as if her schoolmates must know her secret
and that she dared scarcely look them in the
face.

They all wondered at the new humility and
modesty which she now began to show ; but
the change was an agreeable one, and drew
forth no unkind remarks.

A prettier sight than Miss Ashton's garden

The Fair. 231

and piazza on that lovely June afternoon when
the long-talked-of fair took place, would have
been hard to find. Kind friends had decked
the spot tastefully ; flowers were everywhere
in abundance ; the tables conveniently and
becomingly arranged ; and the display of arti-
cles upon them was not only tempting, but
such as had been manufactured by the children
did them wonderful credit. Flags, ribbons,
wreaths, and festoons, all joined to make the
scene gay ; and in and out, among and below
them flitted the white-robed " little sunbeams,"
who lent the fairest life and brightness to the
scene.

(' Sunbeams " they all were that day, indeed.
No cloud appeared to darken their happiness,
no ill-temper, jealousy, or desire to outvie one
another was heard or seen. Even Gracie and
Hattie, who were each rather oppressed with
the sense of past naughtiness, and the feeling
of what the others would say and think if they
knew all, could not but be bright and gay
amid this pleasant companionship.

232 Jessie's Parrot,

Grade had told Hattie that she had con-
fessed her sin to her mother, and the latter
knew that some share of blame must have
fallen to her ; so, although she did not look
upon it in as serious a light as Gracie did, she
had an uncomfortable and conscious fueling.
Miss Ashton had talked to her more seriously
than she had ever done before, and had also
informed her parents of what had taken place,
telling them that she did not wish to disgrace
Hattie, and so, as it was near the close of
school, she would not ask them to remove her
now ; but that she could not take her back in
the fall. Hattie's utter disregard of truth had
already brought too much trouble into her
little flock for her to risk any further mischief
from that source.

Hattie's parents had been much mortified
and displeased, and the child herself had been
severely punished ; but I doubt if the punish-
ment had been altogether just ; for how was
the child who saw equivocation and deceit used
at home as a means of family government

The Fair.

233

when convenience demanded it, to learn the
value of the jewel thus sullied, or to judge of
the line where it was believed that falsehood
must stop and truth and uprightness begin ?

As for generous Nellie, she seemed to have
no recollection of what had passed, unless it
was in the new and caressing tenderness of
her manner toward Gracie ; not a patronizing
manner, but one full of encouragement and
helpfulness.

The other children wondered not only at
Grade's new gentleness and modesty, but also
at the sudden intimacy which seemed to have
sprung up between these two.

"Maybe," said Lily privately, "it is because
Gracie is learning to think better of her-
self" — which was just the opposite from what
Lily meant — " and Nellie's trying to help her."

" Yes," said Maggie ; " perhaps Gracie is
learning it is ' never too late to mend,' which
would make her much more agreeable, and
other people would think more of her. I do
think she is improved."

234 Jessie's Parrot.

Maggie had yielded not alone to the persua-
sions of Miss Ashton, but also to an earnest
appeal from Gracie, and accepted once more
the title of Queen. And very well she became
it, standing in front of her throne — which
she could not be persuaded to occupy — within
the pretty bower into which one end of the
piazza had been turned, according to her ideas.
Bessie, Belle, and Lily were her " maids of
honor," and helped her to sell the bouquets
and baskets of flowers with which she was
bountifully supplied ; and they drove a thriving
trade ; for so many sweet smiles, bright looks,
and winning words went with the flowers that
the stock within the " Queen's Bower " was
much in demand. She had her band of music
too, for half a dozen canary-birds hung within
and around the bower, and, excited by the
laughter and chatter about them, seemed to try
which could sing the loudest and sweetest.

Jessie's parrot was on exhibition, lent by
his present owner for the occasion, down in
the old summer-house at the end of the gar-

The Fair. 235

den, where Jessie herself took the ten cents
admission fee, and made him display all his
accomplishments.

A nd the Doll ! She must have a capital
letter to do justice to her perfections. Of all
the dolls that ever were seen or heard or
thought of, that doll surely took the lead. It
would be of no use for me to describe her or
her toilet, for if you should ever see her,
you would surely tell me that I had not told
one half.

It was nearly the hour at which the fair was
" to begin," and the children were all gathered
about the table on which she was displayed,
when there came a ring at the front door-bell.

Away fluttered every little saleswoman to
her appointed stand, hoping that this might be
the first customer.

And so it proved ; for it was no less a person
than old Mrs. Howard, who had purposely
timed her arrival so that she might be there
before any other person.

" Well, my dears," she said, looking round

236 Jessie's Parrot.

upon the smiling young faces about her, " this
is a pretty sight. And, industrious as I know
you have been, and kind as your friends have
been, I should hardly have thought it possible
that you should have made such a fine show
on your tables. But you know I have some
especial business with you, and I have come
early that we may have it over before the rush
begins."

This was very encouraging. Mrs. Howard
thought it probable they would have " a rush "
of customers, and who should know better
than she ?

" You remember I offered six prizes for
different articles to be worked for me," con-
tinued the old lady, " but there are only four
finished, as you know. My little grand-
daughter, Grade, felt that she had not
displayed a proper spirit about them, and
she decided not to finish hers for the fair,
but to leave it and complete it for me after-
wards."

This had been Grade's OAVH proposal to

The Fair. 237

her mother and grandmother, and they had
allowed her to have her own way, thinking
that this willingness to put herself behind the
others, and to give up even the show of strife
with Nellie, told of a spirit of true repentance,
as indeed it did. When the other children
had asked with much surprise'where her mat
was, she had answered quietly that she could
not finish it. This had not proved any loss
to the fair, because the time she would have
devoted to the mat had been given to other
articles.

" Here, then," continued Mrs. Howard, " are
two toilet sets and two mats for me to judge
between. Of the latter, the one Nellie Ran-
som brings is certainly the best in point of
work ; but it has unfortunately received a bad
ink-stain. Now those of us who know Nellie
are very sure that this has not come through
any neglect or carelessness of her own, and
since she did not do it herself it seems hard
that she should suffer for it. I should be quite
willing to overlook it, for this is really the

238 Jessie's Parrot.

best piece of work among the four; but I
cannot do so unless the others are willing.
Those among you who think Nellie ought not
to be a loser by this misfortune, raise your
hands."

Instantly every little hand was raised, and
if one were before another it was Gracie's.

" Very well ; that is satisfactory," said Mrs.
Howard. " Nellie, my dear, here are ten dollars
for your mat, the first money taken in for
your fair. The second sum, I think, must go
to Maggie's toilet set — ah! yes, Maggie's and
Bessie's, I should have said," as she saw tho
look which Maggie turned upon her sister,
as if wishing that she should have her full
share of credit — "the third to Dora's mat,
and the fourth to Hattie's toilet set. You
are all satisfied, I trust, with this arrange-
ment."

There was a murmur of assent, and this
part of the business was settled.

" And now," said Mrs. Howard, " I want to
say that I think I made a mistake in offering

The Fair. 239

these rates of prices, and so exciting you to
outvie one another. I meant to give you a
motive for trying to improve yourselves, but I
believe it was not a good principle to set you
thus one against the other, and I know that it
has led to some hard feeling and unkindness.
But that, I trust, is now all healed, and I shall
take care not to put such temptation in your
way again."

The children all thought they knew what
Mrs. Howard meant, and with true courteous-
ness they all avoided looking at Gracie.

But this was as much as was ever known by
any of them, save the two or three who had
been in the secret, of Gracie's temptation and
fall. That she had been jealous and unkind
to Nellie, they had all seen ; that she had gone
further and been led into deceit and meanness,
they never heard. Hattie, for her own sake,
held her peace for once ; and penitent Gracie
had not to face the scorn and wonder of all
her schoolmates.

After this Mrs. Howard went about from

240 Jessies Parrot.

table to table, purchasing not 6nly one article,
but generally two or three, from each little
saleswoman ; but she said she would not
remove them till the fair was over, so that
they might still add to the appearance of their
tables. They were all marked SOLD in
enormous, staring letters, that there might be
no possibility of mistake.

And now, customer after customer began to
flock in, and among the earlier arrivals came
Mr. Powers, who was immediately seized upon
by Belle, and led to the table where the baby
doll lay in her glory.

Now it had been announced that whoever
offered the highest price for this famous infant
was to have her, and it was not to be told till
the close of the fair who had done this. The
names of would-be purchasers, with the amount
each offered, were written down by Miss Annie
Slanton, who still held the doll in charge,
lest too eager little hands should mar her
beauties.

" Please offer a whole lot, papa ; I do want

The Fair. 241

her so," said Belle. "Isn't she lovely? Did
you ever see such a doll ? "

Mr. Powers expressed all the admiration he
thought needful, which did not nearly satisfy
Belle, who was only half consoled by what she
thought a want of proper interest by Maggie's
whispered assurance that men " never did
appreciate dolls, and it was quite useless to
expect it of them. It did not seem to be born
in them."

However, Mr. Powers put down his name
and the sum he would give, which last re-
mained for the present a secret between him
and Miss Annie Stanton.

Mamie Stone was as eager about the doll
as Belle, and her mamma was called upon also
to offer a high price for the treasure.

But my " Sunbeam " would lengthen itself
far beyond its sister rays if I should tell you
all that took place at the fair. Enough to say
that it was a great success, and that a sum
was taken in that was more than sufficient to
purchase Jessie's parrot back and to provide
16

242 Jessie's Parrot.

a comfortable home for herself and her
grandfather for at least a year to come.
That is, with what the little girl might hope
to make herself by the further sale of her
wares.

Evening came, bringing with it the great
interest of the day, the announcement of the
munificent purchaser of the doll, and every
little heart beat high with hope that it might
be some friend of her own, who would bestow
the coveted prize upon her.

It proved to be Grandmamma Howard.

Belle stood in an agony of expectation,
squeezing her father's hand and scarcely
breathing in the hush that came before the
name was spoken ; and when she heard " Mrs.
Howard," a rush of color dyed her face, and
a look of blank disappointment overspread it.
She looked up and caught her father's gaze
fixed anxiously upon her. She dashed her
little hand across her eyes to scatter the tears
that would well up, and, forcing a smile, said
with a trembling lip, "Never mind, papa,

The Fair. 243

you meant me to have it, so it was just as
good of you."

Her father stooped and kissed her, rejoicing
in her sweetness and determined good temper.
A little more than a year since, a tempest of
tears and sobs would have broken from his
over-indulged child ; but now she had learned
to control herself and to be contented and
pleasant even when things did not go quite her
own way. She was all smiles and brightness
again in a few minutes, nearly consoled for
her disappointment by her papa's caress and
his few whispered words of blessing.

All believed that Gracie or one of her little
sisters would be presented with the doll by
her grandmother; and great, therefore, was
the amazement of the circle of young friends
when the next day it was rumored, then made
certain, that Mrs. Howard had sent it to Nellie
Ransom.

Every child wondered " why," and so did
more than one grown person ; for the Howards

244 Jessie's Parrot.

and the Ransoms were not, as Maggie said,
" very intimate, and it was rather surprising
Mrs. Howard should think of giving such a
present to Nellie. But she seems to have
taken a great fancy to her, and Nellie quite
deserves it," she added.

" I wonder if she gave it to her because of
the mat," said Mamie Stone.

" I think it was because she is such a
serious child," said Lily. " I find old people
like seriosity, and Nellie has a great deal of
it."

So they judged, these little ones. Nellie,
gentle, unobtrusive " little sunbeam " that she
was, went on her quiet way, shedding light
and warmth in many an unsuspected nook and
corner, and bringing now and then some
hidden seed to blossom in beauty and fra-
grance.

Only one of her schoolmates ever suspect-
ed that it was her thoughtful care for Gracie's
character and feelings, her sweet forgiving

The Fair. 245

spirit which led her to forget past injuries,
which had won for her the gift of the much
coveted doll, and given her a high place in the
love and admiration of the few who knew all
the story.

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